THE SPiLL

Feature: Spring Playlist - Over The Pond

2007-03-31T13:11:00.000-07:00

Grunge Your Desktop

2007-03-22T21:25:00.000-07:00

I recently embarked upon a quest to find some grunge wallpaper for my mac. Grunge art holds great appeal to me in a distressed jeans sort of way. That is, lots of effort goes into making it look unkempt and somewhat dirty, and for reasons unknown, this is cool. Several Google searches later, I learned that the best grunge art was found on stock photo sites of which one would have to become a member, and even pay a small fee, in order to attain the art. I pressed on, and somehow in a flurry of mouse clicking I landed on Design555; A graphic design website run by a guy who specializes in - wouldn't you know it - grunge wallpaper. My day was made.

Before you scamper off, I feel compelled to warn you that some of the wallpapers are rather ridiculous, and the text that accompanies many of them is often lame (you'll see what I mean). Still, you're bound to find a couple you like.

Click here to see the complete gallery of 555Design wallpaper.

Potentially Hazardous Absences of Rational Though - Part Two

2007-02-24T23:27:00.000-08:00

As much as I try to forget, I can't help but remember yet another fearful incident that left an emotional scar. It occurred while I was at the fitness center which I frequently frequent. In the middle of a fairly-unorganized basketball game, an argument erupted on the court when a rather large Hawaiian man disputed the score of the game as called by another basketball player. This argument spiraled increasingly out of control as it made its way off of the court and out into the center of the gym. Heads began to turn towards the multi-cultural spectacle, and because I happened to be playing in that basketball game, and now standing in the center of the gym, I was in the thick of it. As voices raised, along with the overall testosterone level in the room, the Hawaiian was soon yelling above everyone else using frequent obscenities.

Now, I can handle the occasional disagreement, but I was in the middle of something entirely different and of a much higher caliber. These grown men argued with increasing intensity, and I'm not going to lie to you: I was nervous. It was only a matter of time before punches were thrown. As fear reared its ugly head, a Potentially Hazardous Absence of Rational Thought was inevitable. I lost my mind, and my following actions prove it.

In a moment of Patton-like heroism, and in a mindless attempt to remedy the situation, I looked toward the fuming Hawaiian and put my finger to my lips, thereby telling him to hush. Risky? No, risky is two drips of Tabasco. Telling a Hawaiian the size of a Hummer to shut up was beyond risky, borderlining suicidal. Still, I knew if he did somehow heed my subtle advice, we could nip this situation in the bud and there would be no bloodshed. The Hawaiian and I made eye contact as he saw my gesture, and the room suddenly went silent, except for the faint whirring of treadmills. (It occurred to me that at this point in time that my role was a little less Patton, and a little more Custer.)

A lesser man would have resorted to pants-wetting under his hostile gaze, but I simply concentrated on breathing, while mentally weighing my bravery against my desire to live. As those around us were obviously shocked by my boldness/stupidity, as well as my sudden appearance in the argument, I simply stood there with a nervous look on my face, my lip twitching slightly and totally uncontrollably. After our brief stare down, he spoke to me slowly and clearly, making it quite obvious that he would roast me on a spit at his next luau if he ever saw me again. Of course, his actual words included more expletives, and his tone told me that this threat was not beyond him.

As I said at the beginning, and as you can imagine by now, this incident left a scar. Now whenever I go to the gym I have to wear a full disguise, lest I be recognized and promptly decapitated by a flying pineapple. Or perhaps shish-kabobbed by a tiki lamp. Still, if I may say so myself, it's commendable that I even attempt to work out in that same facility considering my history there.

But I do attempt to work out, and it's going quite well. In fact, I recently discovered the difference between a barbell and a dumbbell. The former is what you call a steel bar with weights on each end. The latter is what you call the moron who is trapped awkwardly beneath the former. In full disguise. Yes, weight-lifting is dangerous, especially if you don't have a workout partner there to "spot" you just moments before you could die.

My brothers and I used to lift weights together, but they got tired of me humming Rocky while they bench pressed, so now I fly solo. Since I am without any spotter these days, I stay away from barbells for the most part, opting instead to use a weight machine. With these, one simply sits down wherever there's padding and starts moving stuff around. Up, down, left, right; the direction doesn't really matter as long as the vein in my forehead is bulging, which shows people passing by that I am indeed working out. Or about to lay an egg. I must be doing something right though, because I leave the gym after an exhausting workout feeling a deep and gratifying burn.

Which might be this tiki lamp in my back.

Potentially Hazardous Absences of Rational Thought

2007-02-23T14:30:00.000-08:00

They say when you come face-to-face with a lion in the woods, you should show no fear lest it shred your face into tiny shreds of face. I say, what's the stupid lion doing in the woods in the first place? My opinion is that lions should remain exclusively in jungles, or occasionally Disney movies. A lion in the woods is as unnatural as Easy Cheez, and even more dangerous.

But I'm not here to talk about lions. I want to talk about fear, or more specifically, the various responses to fear. Yes, it has been my observation that different people respond in different ways to dread. Responses range from violent bursts of adrenaline to spontaneous pants-wetting, one occasionally resulting in the other. Almost as varied as the responses to fear are the things that trigger it. For my grandma, it's snakes that cause paralyzing terror. For Geraldo Rivera, it's a Gillette razor. For 50 Cent, it's spell check. For me, it's spiders. And angry Hawaiians. (More on this later.)

Personally, in moments when I encounter fear, I typically respond with a Potentially Hazardous Absence of Rational Thought. Although I would prefer to react in a slightly more heroic way, I have had to come to terms with the truth: In the face of fear, I go blank. Plain and simply, I lose my mind. Case in point:

I recently went into my bathroom to take a routine shower (one of my favorite things in the world). After disrobing, I whipped open the shower curtain only to find that a rather large spider (one of my least favorite things in the world) had beat me to it. It was at the sight of this eight-legged abomination that I experienced one of the aforementioned absences of rational thought and I... Well, I flipped out. My Potentially Hazardous Absence of Rational Thought manifested itself in a brainless and wide-eyed panic as I attempted to flee without regard for civilized means of exit - e.g. doors.

It’s ironic, because although at the time of the incident things seemed chaotic - even apocalyptic - in the three-foot radius that is my bathroom, any person outside would never have guessed that there was a large arachnid and an extremely scared and exposed man trapped in the bathroom. That is, were it not for the repeated thudding of an unclothed body hurling itself against walls. Fortunately, my desperate, housefly-like attempt to escape danger met an abrupt end when rational thought came back around. Only then did I realize how foolish my panicky flailing must have looked.

I also realized that Spidey, the only witness, had to die.

The tables turned, so to speak, as I twisted the faucet, chuckling evilly as the spider was swept around and down the shower drain. He may have had the pleasure of watching me act like a fool at the sight of him, but I had the last laugh as he curled his legs and surrendered to the current.

It is my experience that bravery and courage rarely appear until fear and cowardice have taken their turn. After my harrowing bathroom experience, I couldn't help but wonder: If I could do nothing but panic at the sight of a spider, how would I respond to that lion in the woods? I'm forced to conclude that I would probably respond with my trademark absence of rational thought.

And promptly have my face shredded.

Note: Because of the lengthy nature of this post's original form, it is being divided into two separate segments, the second of which will be posted at a later time. You don't have to thank me.

I Have Major February Issues

2007-01-31T08:16:00.000-08:00

February is Black History Month, and I don't really know what they're trying to pull. First of all, for those of you who don't know (e.g. those of you who have been hiding in a drain pipe your whole lives), Black History Month is a time when notable and influential African-Americans such as Martin Luther King Jr., Muhammad Ali, Michael Jackson, and Ice Cube are remembered (if dead and/or forgotten) and celebrated (regardless). The idea is nice, but I find this particular "holiday" confusing. For starters, it violates every rule that makes a holiday in the first place, not the least of these rules being that a holiday should only take up a single day. One whole month seems pretty greedy to me, but maybe that's just me. Another problem with Black History Month is the nearly-unforgivable lack of candy. Everybody knows that real holidays incorporate candy.

I am not racist by any means, I just feel kind of left out. Here's what I'm getting to: In the name of racial equality and general fairness, there needs to be a White History Month. Just think about it: Such a holiday would allow us to celebrate notable Caucasians such as Alex Trebek, Jack Bauer, The Pope(s), and Michael Jackson. It only seems fair! And we could have candy! I can just imagine people all over America munching on chocolate Popes. White chocolate, naturally.

You know what else comes in February? Yep, it's that single day in the year when the world revolves around a glorified mole that's afraid of his own shadow. I'm talking about the ridiculously-corny Groundhog Day. Since when is it okay to dedicate an entire day to groundhogs? Was there a vote on this? Needless to say, I disapprove of February and its holidays. Whoever designed the calendar knew what they were doing when they cut the month short by about three days. Heaven knows what holidays would be forced upon us if February had the usual number of days! (I'm thinking Gerbil Day, or perhaps another trans-ethnic holiday with a name like Kwakalakananza Thursday.)

Now that I'm finished ranting, I suppose I should bring some balance by looking on the bright side. The truth of the matter is that February does indeed have a redeeming factor, and we all know it as Valentine's Day. This is a day that focuses on the two most important things in the world: Love and chocolate. In a perfect world, those two attributes would be a part of every holiday, along with lots of green M&Ms. And balloons, and noise makers, and chocolate Popes, and...

Feature: What I Bought

2007-01-23T22:57:00.000-08:00

James Mercer, frontman for The Shins, has never been more right on target both musically and vocally than he is on the band's third full-length album, Wincing The Night Away. With a knack for pairing quirky lyrics with catchy hooks, Mercer and his band have released the floodgates of creativity on the new album, embracing said quirkiness and even exploiting it as a strength. (The sound that drives the intro to "Sea Legs" was made by dragging bottle caps over an amp.) After witnessing the band's evolution and growth over the course of two previous albums and several EPs, one can assess from their latest effort that The Shins have reached full maturity as a group, and they, as well as their audience, have come to terms with their unique and extremely engaging sound. A single listen through The Shins' newest album has yielded a few favorites, though several others are sure to spring up with repeated listenings. Highlights of the album include the extremely catchy hooks of "Phantom Limb," the almost-funky-but-still-sounds-like-The-Shins track "Sea Legs," and my personal favorite (for now), "Girl Sailor." (Listen to the layered vocal harmony during the bridge. It's my favorite part.) Wincing The Night Away is on sale now.

Wincing The Night Away by The Shins - Retail: $15 +/-

Hello From The Peach(less) State!

2007-01-15T04:50:00.000-08:00

I'm in Georgia. (No, not the country, the state.) For those of you who have never visited The Peach State, there is an alarming lack of peaches, and yet - on an entirely different note - their air conditioners work just fine. At least they do here in the hotel. I'm staying at a Best Western, which is somewhat-inaptly named considering that this hotel is mediocre at best, and for somebody who lives in Oregon, Georgia is essentially the far east. So although a name such as Mediocre Eastern would more accurately describe this place, it would probably be much less enticing to potential customers. Unless they are Asian.

The aforementioned air conditioner in my room has two settings: "Cold" and "Arctic". With my father operating the machine (a man who sleeps in his skivvies and orders his coffee iced even in months that end in "ber"), our room is transformed from "Room 105," to "Room 105: Ice Station Zebra." Here's an interesting story to illustrate my point (and I must first qualify it as interesting lest you mistake it for mind-numbingly boring): I woke up this morning slightly disturbed because I didn't have a nose. At least none I could feel. Upon further inspection, and after ducking under the covers long enough to defrost, I was thrilled to find that I did in fact have a nose, it was just extremely cold and mushy, much like an oddly-shaped piece of sushi. (Fun Fact: "mushy" and "sushi" almost rhyme!) I have said all of that to say this: If this post comes to a screetching halt, perhaps even in the middle of a sentence, you will know that my fingers have officially frozen solid and I'm no longer able to type.

Have I mentioned that I have yet to see a dang peach? Here I am in the so-called Peach State and the only thing in sight that is fuzzy and orange is my arm, but this is due to an unfortunate mishap involving self-tanning lotion. Do you think it's somewhat shallow of me to judge this state by its lack of fruit? Maybe it is. Especially since I'm the one from the Beaver State. My fellow Oregonians will back me up when I say that our streets aren't exactly running rampant with beavers, so anybody who draws conclusions based upon a state's nickname is probably a buffoon.

The temperature here in Room 105 continues to plummet, and at the risk of sounding like a B-grade Sci-Fi film, I fear this may be my last transmission.

Fingers... Getting... Stiff...

Before this sub-zero cold brings me to the breaking point, during which I may attempt to eat my peach-like arm out of sheer madness, I should bring this post to a close. But first, there is one final thing I have to tell you, and one might say it is the most important thing I've ever written: If you ever come visit the Peach State, do not under any circumst

This Providence

2007-01-09T21:06:00.000-08:00

I am always thrilled to find new music, yet it was not the tunes from Seattle's This Providence that caught my attention. Instead, I first noticed a band photo (shown) from the group's website. So here I am writing this post not to draw your attention to the band's music, but to this particular picture instead. You may not be as enthralled with this photo as I am, but I had to share it. It's formal, yet casual. It's posed, yet relaxed. It's uniform, but diverse. Could this be the perfect band picture? That's saying a lot, but it is unquestionably exceptional. At least I think so.

If you're dying to hear their music, too, I recommend the song "My Beautiful Rescue" from their self-titled album, which is without a doubt their softest song. Other highlights include "The Pursuit of Happiness: The 1st Movement," and "The Road To Jericho Is Lined With Starving People."

Public Declaration of Sheepishness

2007-01-08T19:06:00.000-08:00

As you can imagine, I'm feeling just a tad sheepish. While I vowed to update often through the holidays, a quick scroll to the post just below this one will reveal that my last update occurred on December 15th. Yes, nearly a month ago. I am appalled with myself. In fact, I would seriously consider firing myself if it were not for the fact that laying myself off would result in a %100 decrease in updates. Hence, I will let me stick around as long as I can promise to update with greater frequency in the future. And I do. Promise, that is. Thanks for your patience.

Holiday Playlist: Editor's Pick

2006-12-15T14:20:00.000-08:00

At times such as the present, when there's just a little over a week until Christmas, I choose to saturate myself in festive holiday tunes. With so many Christmas songs to listen to in so little time, I rarely listen to the same song twice. But alas, the following playlist features the select ten songs that I have actually listened to at least twice this year. Because they are good. Or maybe because I'm stuck on my "Recently Played" playlist. I don't know.

Track 1: Happy Xmas (War Is Over) - Sarah McLachlan

Track 2: 25th of December - Everything But The Girl

Track 3: Christmas Wrapping - The Waitresses

Track 4: Yule Shoot Your Eye Out - Fall Out Boy

Track 5: 12 Days Of Christmas - Relient K

Track 6: Mistletoe & Holly - Leigh Nash

Track 7: Winter Wonderland - Jason Mraz

Track 8: Silver Bells - Gavin DeGraw

Track 9: Last Christmas - Jimmy Eat World

Track 10: Everything's Gonna Be Cool This Christmas - Eels

Fake Trees & Flying Rodents

2006-12-01T15:07:00.000-08:00

When I was just a small boy - back when my glasses were bigger than my face - my family would annually partake in the ancient tradition of setting up the Christmas tree. Dad would buy it, strap it to the top of the station wagon, and bring it back home where he would spend countless hours trying to set it straight on the tree stand whilst my mother shouted directional orders to achieve perpendicular perfection. ("A little to the left... No, the right... Little more... No no! Left! LEFT, YOU FOOL!!!") Depressingly enough, the tree would often wither and die just before Christmas. So on Christmas morning, after we children awoke from our dreams of dancing sugar plumbs, we would dash downstairs to find thousands of wrapped gifts covered in pine needles beneath a bald - yet perpendicularly perfect - Christmas tree.

This was just as well I suppose, because somewhere in the hazy, early years of my life, my mother and sister developed allergies. This meant that whenever either of them came within the general vicinity of a living fir tree, they would start to turn red and puffy while spontaneously bursting into fits of hacking, coughing, and wheezing. Although the entertainment value of this was high, my parents ultimately made the decision to purchase a *gasp* artificial tree. Being something of a traditionalist, this idea seemed unthinkable to me. How could we have a real Christmas with a fake tree? Do we buy a fake turkey for Thanksgiving? Do we buy fake fireworks for the Fourth of July? Do we buy fake chimichangas for Cinco de Mayo? Do we even BUY chimichangas for Cinco de Mayo? Well, the point is that an artificial tree was more that just an allergetic decision; it was one step closer to bringing a gigantic rat into the house.

A couple days ago, my dad ventured into the uncharted areas of our garage to retrieve the big cardboard box that holds our Christmas tree. Yes, the fake one. After lugging it into the living room, he opened the top of the box and began to remove it's contents, when what to his wondering eyes should appear but a rat the size of a terrier. That's right, there in the open box in the living room was a big, greasy rodent. To say that it was large would be an understatement. You remember Stuart Little, right? Well, this rat could have used Stuart as an earplug. My dad slowly stepped backwards away from the box so as not to disturb the mutant rat. Meanwhile, the rest of us who were in the room at the time frantically scrambled to the highest surfaces we could reach, such as the couch, the bookshelf, and my dad. Rodents are extremely unpredictable, you see, and we all knew that if this particular one were to leap out of the box, he would either hide himself somewhere in the house (in which case we could never sleep peacefully again) or worse, he would attack. Like a greasy, squealing banshee of terror.

After a few moments of fear-induced silence, Dad cautiously sprang into action by sliding open the screen door leading out onto our back porch. The plan became apparent: Somebody had to push this potentially lethal jack-in-the-box out of the living room and onto the deck, safely distant from the women and children and I. As Dad began pushing the box toward the door, trying to be both delicate and speedy at once, we all held our breath and stared intently at the box expecting the worst. (The worst being that the rodent would jump out and latch onto Dad's throat draining him of blood and then turning to the rest of us.) Even before the box had entirely cleared the doorframe, the mutant rat sprang out, scampered to the edge of the porch, and leapt off while we all stared in disbelief. If you've never seen or leapt from my back porch, you wouldn't know that it's about twenty-five feet off of the ground. Hence, a rat leaping from my porch is roughly the equivalent of me leaping from, say, Yao Ming. Or maybe something even taller, like the Chrysler Building. Mind you, a fall of this great magnitude may cause you or me to splatter all over the sidewalk like a Hefty bag full of vegetable soup, yet the giant rat miraculously survived his plunge and scurried off. He would live to terrorize Tokyo another day.

This opus of holiday terror ended with the climactic crescendo of the rodent's Peter Pan-like flight from the porch to the earth. As the rest of us descended from our various heights, we unanimously agreed that a new artificial tree would have to be purchased. Quite understandably, nobody wanted to go near the one on the porch.

"Never bring a box into the house unless you know what's inside" seems like an applicable moral to this story, but I'm sure there are others if you look deep enough. One thing's for sure: You never know what you might find 'neath the Christmas tree. Like a mutant rat.

The Perfect Christmas CD? Pretty Close.

2006-11-24T21:44:00.000-08:00

Now for a hot holiday tip, courtesy of The Spill: Available only from Bath & Body Works stores, The Perfect Christmas holiday music compilation is an excellent mix of seasonal tunes both new and old. Because of the fact that the proceeds of this album go to the Make-A-Wish Foundation, it's price is extremely affordable at a mere $10. With 24 tracks on both CDs combined, that comes down to about $.40 per track as opposed to the $.99 you would pay through iTunes. A flippin' bargain! From Bing Crosby to Jason Mraz, this CD covers multiple generations of artists from every genre to deliver a well-rounded and enjoyable listening experience. Pick it up next time you're at the mall!

Bath & Body Works' The Perfect Christmas CD - Retail: $10

It's Red Again

2006-11-23T17:06:00.000-08:00

Nobody knows how to spread the holiday cheer like Starbucks does! Their distinctive red cups serve as excellent Christmas spirit-enhancers and holiday shopping companions. Eggnog lattes aside, the Starbucks company also hosts itsredagain.com which allows you to, among other things, send personalized holiday greetings to your friends and family. What makes this site better than other holiday greeting generators is the extent to which one is allowed to customize the greeting. Send your warmest wishes to a loved one as spoken from the mouth of a snowman, a nutcracker, or several other choices of characters. It's easy to spend quite a while here, so if you have a few minutes you might want to go take a look. It's a lot of fun, and you might just make somebody's day!

Click here to visit itsredagain.com.

'OK Go' Check This Out

2006-11-12T13:27:00.000-08:00

Prior to the overnight success of what has become a viral video phenomenon, OK Go was a relatively-unknown band from Chicago. Their music video for the single "Here It Goes Again" (now simply referred to as "The Treadmill Video") has drawn the attention and acclaim of fans and critics alike thanks to it's let's-just-have-some-fun attitude and back-to-basics formula. This music video, shot in it's simplistic entirety from a single camera angle, finds the band performing an elaborately-choreographed dance routine... On treadmills. You'll have to watch it understand what all the hype is about, after which you may safely consider yourself hip and culturally "in the loop." Then you'll watch it again.

Click here to watch "Here It Goes Again."

Feature: What I Bought

2006-11-09T18:54:00.000-08:00

Sierra Mist has introduced a brand new flavor for a limited time only. As you know, I wouldn't direct your attention to this beverage if I didn't absolutely love it myself. With a splash of cranberry (hence the name), this new drink adds a refreshing twist to a crisp, classic taste. Sierra Mist Cranberry Splash will only be around for the holidays, so get it while you can!

Sierra Mist Cranberry Splash - Retail: $2

You Can't Vote Whig, So Vote For Me.

2006-11-09T09:49:00.000-08:00

Believing the speed limit to be 45 miles-per-hour, I drove an innocent 52 when I passed a cop car on the side of the road. I saw him but I didn't bother braking or changing the way I drove at all because, unless you live in Amish country, seven over the speed limit is not exactly ticket-worthy. There sat the cop in the parked police car, lying in wait like some kind of jungle predator, but with doughnuts. Yes, he was ready for me. (As a matter of fact, and as I found out later, the name on the policeman's badge was "Officer Reddy." Oh, the irony!) After I passed, I glanced in my rear-view mirror just in time to see him flip on his lights and start following me. Fighting the lump in my throat, and the fleeting notion to "floor it," I quickly pulled into the parking lot of a Chinese restaurant and parked while he did the same directly behind me. It crossed my mind that we could settle our problems over steamed rice and tariyaki chicken, but as I found out, this officer was in no such mood.

Long story short, he gave me a ticket for speeding. The posted speed limit was 40, and not 45 like I had thought. This minor technicality boosted my innocent seven miles-per-hour over to a not-so-innocent twelve over. For the first time ever, I had a ticket, a court date, and that overwhelming sense of guilt like after you've had your fourth Twinky.

There's a first time for everything I guess. First speeding ticket, first time voting, first time running for office... What, I didn't tell you? Yes, I'm officially in the running for a major position in this county. It all started the other morning when I sat down at the kitchen table with my Dad to vote. For the first time, mind you. A quick scanning of the various political parties involved in the elections left me disappointed, as I had purposed to vote "Whig." As I have discovered since, the Whig party disbanded in 1850. My disappointment was short lived, however, thanks to the sudden realization that the voter's ballots allow you to fill in the name of a candidate of your own choosing. That's right, any name at all. In other words, all fifty bajillion people in the United States including me can legally run for a political position. Wonderful! Marvelous! Slightly terrifying! My Dad was quick to inform me that as a "responsible citizen," it was my "duty" to "vote" for "politicians" who "might actually win." Needless to say, I found his lack of faith in my potential political career disturbing, but we did reach a fair compromise when he allowed me to vote for myself for one position. Namely, I am running for Director of Water & Sewage in District 5. I admit that it may not be the most glamorous political title to hold, but somebody's got to keep an eye on the darn sewage. Besides, I see it as one step closer to my dream of someday building a water park on the roof of the White House. (I'd call it "The SPLASH of Allegiance!" Catchy, huh?)

For the sake of happy endings, I should also mention that a fair compromise was reached concerning my speeding ticket, too. I went to court (which, by the way, is nothing at all like it is on Matlock), and they told me that I didn't have to pay the full price of the ticket if I just fill out a few papers, attend an all-day traffic safety class, and fight the giant snake.

You'll have to excuse me now; I've got some major political planning to do. You know what they say (and when I say "they" I mean "me"): "Director of Water & Sewage one day, President the next!" Of course, one has to climb the political ladder one rung at a time. Maybe next election I'll just run for Congress or the Supreme Court, which I'm pretty sure is the same as the regular court, but with sour cream and guacamole. In closing, I leave you with these final words of advice...

Vote for me.

Feature: What I Bought

2006-11-04T13:59:00.000-08:00

Confession: I didn't actually buy this hat as the title of the post implies. It was a gift from my brother for my birthday. Still, I'm pretty excited about it. Don't think that I'm a Red Sox fan, or any kind of fan for that matter. Confession #2: I don't watch baseball. But even that doesn't distract from the fact that this hat is really, really cool.

Lids New Era "Authentic Collection" Cap - Retail: $30

Boldly Going Where No Flab Has Gone Before

2006-10-29T22:33:00.000-08:00

I sprained my ankle this morning. Normally, such a sprain could ruin my day and put a downer on my outlook on life. Not today! Alarmingly, I have remained imperturbable throughout the course of my injury. This is alarming for two reasons: First, I'm not quite sure what imperturbable means. Secondly, whenever I suffer a traumatic injury - or even a relatively bad nose bleed - I usually milk it for all it's worth. To put it bluntly, I use my injured state as an excuse to get people to do things for me. I don't entirely take advantage of people's kindness, just a couple little requests for favors here and there, along with the occasional letter of appeal to the Make-A-Wish Foundation, but I have yet to hear a positive response from them. I can't seem to convince them that whatever illness I am suffering at the time could result in death. Their typical reply to my requests usually say something to the effect of:

Dear Mr. Brock,
Our staff of medical experts assure us that 'Terminal Noseimus Bleedimus' is not a real condition. Please don't write us again.

It goes without saying that I'm beginning to lose all hope in humanity. Where's the trust? Where's the love?!

At the moment, my ankle is every shade of black and blue. There are even subtle hints of burgundy and fuchsia which actually go quite nicely together. Apparently my ankle has more fashion sense than I do.

If you are the inquisitive type, you may wonder how I sprained my ankle in the first place. Of course if you were to ask me, I would be way too modest to tell you how I saved a child from the third story of a burning building, and how I twisted my ankle after leaping through the billowing smoke, out the window, and onto the fireman's trampoline. My own modesty (along with the fact that everything I just said is entirely false) prevents me from bragging.

In actuality, I hurt myself while working out at a fitness center of which I am a currently a member. As a general rule of thumb, one must always be wary of any organization that requires membership. The Democratic Party, The Ku Klux Klan, fitness centers; they all have one thing in common and that's membership. Anyways, for those of you who don't know, a fitness center is a place where any person of any age, shape, and size can come to feel fat. You can blame society for this, because it would have us believe there is an "ideal" body weight that we all must conform to, when in reality only actresses and Somalian refugees ever achieve this "ideal." And maybe a few fitness center employees.

Take a peek into any Gold's Gym or 24 Hour Fitness and you will see what you, Joe McFlabby, are up against: Guys that are freakishly buff and triangular, thanks to substances of dubious legality, and overly-tanned blonde girls whose biggest meal of the day is their toothpaste. You don't stand a chance! Consequently, the parking lots of fitness centers across America are filled with people who pace indecisively between their car and the front doors of the gym, trying in vain to muster enough courage to enter the Land of Chiseled Abs.

So what are we going to do about this? Well, we can either get in shape before we go to the gym, which seems somewhat contradictory, or we can brave the fitness center waving the banner of flabbiness proudly. In a metaphorical sense, of course. There is a third option, though some might see it as just a little drastic. It requires the extermination of the entire earth's population of ridiculously good-looking people. Like I said, maybe that's slightly drastic, but I'm sure you'll agree that somebody needs to do something. As much as I would like to step up and lead this revolution, I can't. I have a bum ankle.

Don't Get Attached To The Country Boy

2006-10-13T10:14:00.000-07:00

Fact 1: Six out of ten Americans struggle with obesity.

Fact 2: One of the six will sit in front of me in the movie theater. He will make frequent trips to the restroom.

Fact 3: If I dare tell him this is distracting, the other five will show up and make me eat my socks.

Whenever I go to watch a movie, I have to remind myself of these three things. It helps me know what I'm getting into. I was never a Boy Scout, but "Always Be Prepared" seems like a great motto for anybody, and definitely for me.

I recently went to a movie theater and, despite my best efforts to resist, I gave in and bought some popcorn. It's not that I'm trying to watch what I eat or anything, it's just that these days popcorn costs a ridiculous amount of money (approximately $.25 per kernel). Anyways, the movie I saw was a war movie, and it only served to confirm my theory that every war movie is the same. Sure, minor details may change from film to film - such as whether or not we are fighting Nazis, the Japanese, or more Nazis - but when all is said and done, every war film follows the same formula.

The Plot Summary of Every War Movie You Have Ever Seen:

The squad/unit/team of good guys are sent on the mother of all missions facing impossible odds. For reasons of political correctness, their unit contains at least one of each of the following: A black man, an Italian, a Jew, and a country boy with a drawl. There is also a battle-hardened veteran, a coward who must prove himself, and a Brooklyn native with a bad mouth. At any given time in the film, one or more of these men will die. (Probably the sweet little country boy, so don't get too attached. He's toast.) Still, the mission will be a success and the main hero will live to tell the story of his squad's heroism and cultural diversity.

Did I miss anything? Maybe, but you get the point. Don't get me wrong though; I like war movies! I have been a big war movie fan ever since I was really little, and maybe even before. Of course, the war movies I grew up on were black and white, and they almost always starred John Wayne. These were the kind of films wherein bad guys would get shot, twirl around once with their hands in the air, fall to the ground, and then die. Also, they would hardly ever bleed, and if they did bleed they never bled actual blood.* It would be a small trickle of dark liquid from the corner of their mouth, closely resembling Hershey's syrup. The old-time directors could get away with this because the films were, after all, black and white.

Warning: The following paragraph contains graphic descriptions of war-related violence that may fry young, impressionable minds. Your innocence, once lost, can never be regained.

Fast-forward to today's gritty films, and you can just forget about the little trickle of Hershey's. The movies now want us to believe that a soldier's every body part is like a raspberry jelly doughnut waiting to burst. Yes, Hollywood has cranked the gory knob from "high" to "way-beyond-realistic." Now, hardly a moment goes by on the screen without some poor soldier getting blown to smithereens by an RPG (Really Powerful Gun). In the scenes following, the soldier lies gasping for his final breaths, while looking as though he had spent time in a blender set on "puree." Medics scramble to save him, but only succeed in drenching themselves in the soldier's... uh, raspberry jelly. Things have definitely changed a bit since the days of black and white, twirl-before-you-die war movies, haven't they? Still, the basic formula has remained consistent and I really doubt that we'll see that change anytime soon. It's nice that there are some things in life we can rely on, isn't it?

I feel pretty much the same way about sports movies, too. Am I the only one who has noticed that they are all strikingly similar? That is, with the exception of Rocky, in which Sylvester Stallone (played by Rocky Balboa) does not win the climactic fight, but gets beat to a pulp instead. How refreshing! I'm not a pessimist, I just like variety. He loses the fight and then spends the last moments of the film stumbling through the crowd yelling for Adrian from the side of his mouth. The funny thing is, Adrian is standing in front of him the whole time, but you can't blame Rocky for being a little bit loopy. After all, the man is exhausted, not to mention the fact that he's lost a lot of raspberry jelly.

* Whoa! Try saying that sentence five times as fast as you can!

The Social Music Revolution

2006-10-10T08:20:00.000-07:00

Cruise over to lastFM.com and take their free service for a spin! Just type in the name of your favorite band and you will be able to listen to their music, read their bio, scan their albums, check out their pics, read their journal, view their homepage, monitor their chart movement, and discover new music based on your taste. If you wish, you can register and download their software to maximize the full potential of this user-oriented service, but even the free, no-strings-attached service is worth a visit. Click here to visit LastFM, the social music revolution.

Autumn Playlist: Editor's Pick

2006-09-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year again! The sky clouds, leaves fall, pollen pollenates... or whatever. The following is a list of songs I'll be listening to this Fall. Unlike the playlists of previous seasons, which have included songs that catered to many different music tastes, this playlist is full of songs that I love personally, and I hope you enjoy them, too!

Check out the iMix here.

Track 1: Landed - Ben Folds

Track 2: She Says - Howie Day

Track 3: Fresh Feeling - Eels

Track 4: Into The Dark - Ben Lee

Track 5: Marching Bands of Manhatten - Death Cab for Cutie

Track 6: Sundress - Ben Kweller

Track 7: Saint Simon - The Shins

Track 8: I'm a Cuckoo - Belle & Sebastian

Track 9: Strange & Beautiful - Aqualung

Track 10: World Spins Madly On - The Weepies

Feature: What I Bought

2006-09-20T23:31:00.000-07:00

YouthAids, the Aldo shoe company, and countless celebrity personalities have collaborated in an effort to raise awareness concerning HIV/AIDS. As a symbol of this effort, empowerment tags can now be purchased at any Aldo store, and %100 of the proceeds will benefit YouthAids. Even if you wouldn't normally donate to this organization, these stylish tags are worth the small price you'll pay. Click here to read more about the cause, otherwise, just go buy one. Hey! It's for charity!

Aldo Empowerment Tag - Retail: $5

Of Tweakers & Scallywags

2006-09-20T20:39:00.000-07:00

Life is unpredictable. Just when you think you've got it figured out, you get blind-sided by a completely random and unforeseeable occurrence. This morning, I woke up with the hair on one side of my head standing straight up in a comical manner, a la Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. No matter how much I tried in front of the mirror, I couldn't get the little "tweakers", as I like to call them, to obey. So what did I do? I went with the messy look, using the tweakers to my advantage. Yes, life may have thrown a curveball, but even a curveball can be a home run. (You can quote me.)

Let's talk about pirates! Does this seem like a random topic? I suppose it does. If you try to follow my logic - as unconventional as it may be - you will see that this subject isn't as left field as it may seem. (If I use another baseball analogy, please stab me with a pencil.)

Pirates, known for their incessant pillaging and bad personal hygiene, were once feared and revered by pretty much everybody. In this respect, they were sort of like an early IRS.

I have been thinking about pirates a lot lately, mainly because it takes my mind off of the canker sore on my bottom lip. Honestly, I find them quite fascinating (pirates, not canker sores), and that is why I am discussing them with you now.

Besides a completely unique fashion sense, pirates had their own dialect made up of badly pronounced English, along with bits of French, Italian, and Bleu Cheese. As a matter of fact, it is this linguistic aspect that I find most interesting. Pirates could shout fierce and vicious things that would cause men to shake in their 16th century trousers, but if anyone besides a pirate was to say the same words, they would be laughed at. For example, if you were to get into a heated argument with a coworker and threaten to slit their gullet, you would probably not be taken seriously.

According to my research (that is, numerous viewings of old pirate movies), I have noticed that pirates invented some fascinating insults, too. Derogatory terms such as "swabs" and "scallywags" were often used quite effectively by captains in order to increase the productivity of the crew. Example:

Captain: "Hoist the main sails..."

Crew: "Hurry up! Before he calls us 'swabs'!"

Captain: "...Ye swabs!"

Crew: "Arrrrg!!!"

There's another one! "Hoist the main sails!" Yet another phrase that, if used in modern situations, would bring about mockery. I suppose that such an order is not too uncommon for sailors, but if "land-lubbers" like you and I were to say it, people would think we were mentally challenged. In some cases, people may think we are asking for a wedgie. (I recall my older brothers hoisted my main sail quite a lot when I was younger.)

So there you have it: Everything I know about pirates in a single post. It may not be much, but as long as this canker sore sticks around... Who knows? I might become an expert.

Bees Want Me Dead

2006-09-05T16:40:00.000-07:00

Let me get this out in the open: I'm scared of bees. There, I said it.

I decided to publicly admit this particular phobia on the grounds that admitting your problems is the first step to solving them. If this is true, then I've just taken my first step toward a more carefree, less phobic lifestyle. Wow! This feels good! Bees scare the living poo out of me, and I'm not afraid to admit it!

If you were me you'd be afraid too, because bees are out to get me. This is not some unfounded fear, mind you. Recent studies conducted at leading universities confirm this fact.

The way I figure it, bees live a pretty boring life. They spend all day hopping from flower to flower, the only variety occurring when one mistakes a weed for a flower, at which point the bees have a good laugh (or buzz), and then move on to the next flower. When Seth enters their mundane little world, the insects attack without warning like miniature flying ninjas. People will try to tell you that bees won't hurt you if you just ignore them. These people lie.

One time when I was a little kid, I was outside on the porch setting the table. You see, my parents decided that since it was such a pretty day, we could just eat dinner outside, but somebody forgot to remind them that was the bees' territory. Sure enough, as I was setting the silverware, a bee showed up. It was big. Keeping the exaggeration to a minimum, this guy was somewhere between a bumblebee and a zeppelin. Having a healthy respect - meaning a hysterical fear - for the creatures, I threw my silverware in the air and bolted for the door. What are the odds that my mother, whom was carrying a pot of boiling-hot green beans, would be coming out the door just as I was running in? Inevitably, we collided and the scalding contents of the pot spilt all over my little head and face. After this cruel deformation, I spent the rest of my lonely days haunting an opera house.

Okay fine, I'm not really The Phantom. This burning incident did, however, leave a mark both physically and mentally. Needless to say, I am now terrified of bees and green beans.

The Return Of The Best Movies You've Never Seen

2006-08-23T11:18:00.000-07:00

As a continuation of last February's post, we shall now look at a few more cinematic gems you've probably never seen, or maybe even heard of.

Stay - 2005
Starring Ewan McGregor and Ryan Gosling

This thriller tells the story of a psychiatrist (McGregor) struggling to prevent a troubled patient (Gosling) from committing suicide, while trying to maintain his own grip on reality. Ryan Gosling is one of the most talented young actors around, and this movie proves it! I found it very entertaining, and the twists and turns kept me guessing to the very end. Please note that this film does contain excessive foul language, so you may want to look into one of these.

Joe vs. The Volcano - 1990
Starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan

This is the story of a guy named Joe (Hanks) who is diagnosed with an incurable disease. Given just a short time to live, Joe does the unthinkable: He quits his dead-end job, and decides to live his last days in style, ending with a heroic leap into a volcano! I know it sounds ridiculous - and it is - but it's worth watching just once. This is Tom Hanks at his deadpan best, and Meg Ryan (who plays three different characters in the film) does fantastic, too.

Serenity - 2005
Starring Nathan Fillion, and other actors you've never heard of.

A rag-tag crew of rebels struggle to survive the perils of corrupt governments, assassins, and - this is not a joke - outer-space cannibals. An interesting thing that I've noticed about this movie is that most people who watch it expecting something amazing walk away disappointed, while those who go into the film with no expectations are pleasantly surprised. For me, this sci-fi/action/drama/comedy was a pleasant surprise, and definitely worth the watch.

What About Bob - 1991
Starring Richard Dryfuss and Bill Murray

Things quickly spiral out of control when Bob (Murray), a multi-phobic patient, befriends his psychologist's (Dryfuss) family. While the quirky-yet-likeable Bob slowly overcomes his senseless phobias and issues, Dr. Marvin's own sanity begins to slip away until we're left wondering who is the doctor, and who is the patient! This film is one of the funniest and most quotable movies you'll ever see, and those who have seen it know that there is a quote in this movie for every situation.

Three Amigos - 1986
Starring Steve Martin, Chevy Chase, and Martin Short

This is the story of three silent-film actors who receive an invitation to a small town in Mexico to film a movie with the famous (or infamous) El Guapo. As "real bullets" start to fly, the Amigos begin to wonder if things have been lost in translation. This is one of the few movies that I find funnier with every viewing. The chemistry between the three lead actors makes for some of the most hilarious scenes ever filmed! Watch it. You'll love it.

Tonight, Not Again: Jason Mraz Live at the Eagles Ballroom - 2004

This CD+DVD combo is not necessarily a movie, but it's still worth watching. Jason Mraz, arguably one of the greatest live performers around, takes control of the stage in Chicago to deliver a fantastic show. This DVD was made before his sophomore album "Mr. A-Z" existed, so don't expect to hear "Wordplay" or any other track from his most recent album. You will, however, hear gems such as "The Remedy (I Won't Worry)", "You & I Both", and "Curbside Prophet".

Feature: What I Bought

2006-08-11T13:02:00.000-07:00

It's official: Camouflage shorts are "in". The camo pattern made a small cameo last Summer, but it seems that this year everybody is wearing it! Though I am not one to "go with the flow", I am also not one to be left in the dark. Hence, while shopping in Hollister yesterday, I bought myself a pair. Did I mention that they're now on sale? Well they are, so now's the time to snatch them up!

Hollister Military Issue Cargo - Retail: $30 (on sale)

"A blind guy and a teenager walk into a WalMart..."

2006-08-04T23:59:00.000-07:00

Don't you just hate it when blind people in motorized wheelchairs ask you to read CDs out loud to them one track at a time? Oh wait, maybe that's just me. Yeah, I can honestly say that I hate it when that happens. Normally, I'm not the kind of person to "hate" things, but in this case... Well, let me tell you about it.

It was a sunny day. Yes, I remember because I was wearing flip-flops, which are so-called because that's the sound they make when you walk in them. I was in WalMart shopping for music and movies, although that's no excuse. It was while I was there in the electronics department that the blind man in the wheelchair made his appearance.

Whirrrrrrrrr...

He parked right next to me. I continued scanning the music rack as if nothing was the matter, but I could feel that the man was staring up at me. A moment later, he began his brief and entirely arbitrary introduction.

"Hi. I'm blind."

A witty reply to his unusual declaration would have been to ask him, "then how did you find me?" But witty replies are in short order when one is caught off-guard. I turned and looked down at him. The small man stared back up at me with a blank expression, as if he expected me to speak next. "What can I do for you, sir?" I asked, like a good little Boy Scout.

"I can't read these," he explained, gesturing to the pile of CDs on his lap. "You think you can read 'em to me?"

"Sure I can," I said with a smile, feeling a sense of pity for the handicapped man. I reached for the stack of CDs. "This first one is 'Elvis Presley Love Songs', and the second one is..."

"Read the tracks, too", he interrupted.

"Uh, okay. Track one is 'Love Me Tender', track two is..."

I continued to read through each CD in this same manner, and fifteen minutes later, I finished. He said thanks, and went whirring on his way. I don't mind helping people out, especially a handicapped person, but I was sincerely relieved when we had finished. Reading those tracks was a chore that quickly grew tiresome.

Mere minutes later, the previous episode was nearly forgotten, and I was once again happily scanning the music racks. Then I heard a sound that sent chills up my spine.

Whirrrrrrr...

I whipped around, and there he sat with a fresh, and seemingly taller stack of music. If the look on my face was any reflection of what I was thinking, then I'd venture to say it was a good thing he couldn't see. He was the first to speak once again.

"I'm blind."

"I remember."

"Can you read these to me?"

"Uh... Sure I can!"

So began round two, as I stood there reading his stack of CDs. At long last, I finished reading, and with an unquestionable feeling of Deja Vu, he thanked me and went whirring away.

At this point, I know what you're thinking. You are wondering why I didn't just leave the store before he came back, right? Well, that's a good question, and in retrospect that's probably what I should have done, but at the time I just wanted to keep shopping. Besides, he wouldn't come around for a third pass, right?

Whirrrrrr...

I glanced toward the sound only to see the wheelchair headed in my direction yet again. What was I going to do? It was obvious that he wasn't going to stop. The situation called for a quick decision, so I made one. As the whirring grew louder, I sneaked away in the opposite direction, trying my best to keep my flip flops from flip-flopping so loudly. Somehow, the whirring grew louder, and a quick look over my shoulder told me he was gaining. Did he have a second gear on that thing? No matter. The chase was on.

flip-flop flip-flop flip-flop... whirrrrrrrrrrr... flip-flop flip... whirrrrrrr...

As I ducked for cover somewhere between the "Hip-Hop" and "Country" music, I began to reevaluate the actions I had taken. It occurred to me that a person would have to have sunk pretty low to be running from a blind man in a wheelchair. Then it also crossed my mind that a person has to sink pretty low to enter a WalMart in the first place, so perhaps I had already passed the point of no return.

Whirrrrrrr...

From my crouched position, I came to the disturbing realization that there was nowhere to go without being seen. The whirring of the wheelchair grew louder and more intense, as did my throbbing pulse. I was trapped.

A moment later, the incessant whirring came to an abrupt stop.

Silence.

I didn't have to see him to know that he was directly behind me. As I looked over my shoulder my gaze was met by his, and I found myself doubting his blindness once again.

"What are you doing down there?" he asked in a slow and suspicious tone.

Once again, the circumstance called for a quick decision, so I made one, as unethical as it was.

"Found it", I said as I quickly snatched up a random CD. "This", I began, "is a CD that you will absolutely love."

"What is it?"

I looked down at the case in my hands and read it aloud. "Umm... Reggae Hits Of The '90s."

I will freely admit that this was not one of my finest moments. I couldn't help but cringe, knowing that he was probably realizing that I had just grabbed a random CD in order to strengthen my bluff. This was awkward. After a few seconds, he spoke.

"How did you know I like reggae?"

Since the time this story occurred, I haven't done a lot of shopping in WalMart, as you can probably imagine. Quirky and unpredictable circumstances take their toll, you see. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm paranoid, but there have been days since this time when I'm shopping, and I could swear I hear that sound.

You know, the whirrrrr...

Feature: What I'm Into

2006-07-27T23:13:00.000-07:00

As the title of the post suggests, the following is a list of things I enjoy at the moment. I clarify "at the moment" because my likes and dislikes are subject to change without notice. Anyways, at the present time, I'm absolutely thrilled by the following.

[Movie] Nacho Libre
A kind-hearted monk (Jack Black) is torn between his religious duties, and his life-long dream of becoming a professional wrestler.
Why it's good: This is the second film by Jared Hess (Writer/Director of Napoleon Dynamite). With that in mind, you'll enjoy the same quirky humor and quotable one-liners, but on this go around, they're delivered by the always-funny Jack Black.

[Movie] Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest
This sequel to 2003's "Curse of the Black Pearl" finds Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) under a whole new curse, this time involving the creepy - and literally heartless - Davy Jones.
Why it's good: Though perhaps not as good as "Pearl", "Dead Man's Chest" is a worthy installment in the franchise. This second film works because it doesn't stray too far from the formula established by the first: likeable characters, swashbuckling action, and that Disney-sense of fun.

[Movie] 16 Blocks
This is a story of a dirty cop (Bruce Willis) who seeks to find redemption by aiding a falsely-accused man (Mos Def).
Why it's good: While I was not expecting much from yet another Bruce Willis action flick, I was pleasantly surprised by the simplistic quality, and the positive message of the film's plot.

[Music] The Riddle (You & I) - Five For Fighting
The band known as Five For Fighting is made up of one member, multi-instrumentalist John Ondrasik. He has long been one of my favorite artists, and this new single "The Riddle" is definitely on par with his other major hits "100 Years", and the earlier chart-topper "Superman (It's Not Easy)".

[Music] Oh Dear - Matt Costa
With nothing more than acoustic guitars and bright vocals, one would think that Matt Costa's musical formula would grow tiresome, yet each track on his album "Songs We Sing" manages to distinguish itself from every other song. "Oh Dear" is one of my favorites, though there are many. It reminds me of something The Beatles would have sung. (Also listen to "Astair" and "Cold December".)

[Music] Goodnight & Go - Imogen Heap
A friend of mine introduced me to this Essex native's eclectic sound and broad vocal range. "Goodnight & Go" is a little funky, a little psychedelic, a little electronic; these are traits I normally dislike. This song, however, is an exception.

[Book] The Book Of Bunny Suicides - Andy Riley
Slightly less than a literary masterpiece, this book is full of single-panel comics featuring furry little bunnies that are tired of living. Yes, it's quirky and maybe even morbid, but it's also very funny. Click here to see more.

[Book] Fundamentals of Classical Thermodynamics - Gordon J. Van Wylen
Before you get too impressed, this book is way over my head. Seriously, I get bored before I'm finished reading the title. What do I know about thermodynamics? Nothing. However, by periodically picking it up and flipping through the pages, I can fool myself into thinking I'm smarter, and having it on the nightstand next to my bed seems to fool everyone else. Hehe...

[Refreshment] SoBe Courage Cherry Citrus
Haven't you always thought that they made Capri Sun drink pouches way too small? I have, so I was thrilled when I found this drink by SoBe, which tastes incredibly similar to a Capri Sun. And that's a good thing.

[Clothing] Abercrombie & Fitch Solid Polo
In my opinion, every guy should have one of these. They're durable, they're comfortable, and you can wear them with almost anything. These polos are a bit spendy, but it's worth it because you'll have it and wear it for a long time. Just make sure you choose a trans-seasonal shade. That is, avoid bright colors that won't work in the winter months. Unless you're filthy rich, in which case you should buy one of every color, and then go start a foundation for homeless children.

Moments Of Stirring Patriotism

2006-07-13T21:39:00.000-07:00

With the Fourth of July finally behind us, - along with the headaches, scorched driveways, and forest fires that accompany it - I believe it is now safe to remove the earplugs and drag Fido out from under the porch. Personally, I love it when the fourth rolls around. What's not to love about the outdoor cooking, or the water-balloon fights, or crazy Uncle Vince's illegal fireworks? Indeed, the Fourth of July is a wonderful holiday. Leave it to us Americans to create a special day dedicated to blowing stuff up.

The memories! I recall one particular Fourth when I held a lit sparkler proudly above my head as I belted out the Star Spangled Banner. It was a moment of stirring patriotism, to be sure. What happened next, however, was... Well, perhaps I'll just leave the memory right there. I won't mention the part where I looked up at my sparkler as I sang, and a spark flew into my mouth, thus triggering a series of panic-induced gyrations that would have put Jim Carrey to shame. No, I'll just leave all of that out, allowing you to enjoy the image of a little freckle-faced, four-eyed patriot singing his nation's anthem. Oh, such stirring patriotism!

Of course, moments of stirring patriotism have been in frequent occurrence since America's formation. Stories of early American pride immediately spring to mind, such as the incident wherein Nathan Hale (early American patriot, and future co-star of Gilligan's Island) said to his captors just moments before his execution, "I only regret that I have but one pair of trousers to wet." I'm also reminded of that time when, in yet another display of American pride, a group of patriots dressed like Indians and threw crates of tea into the harbor, followed by barrels of lemons, and numerous packets of Splenda brand Splenda. This was followed by a slightly-less memorable moment when the patriots stared at each other as if to say, "what just happened?" Nobody's sure why they did what they did with the tea, but it was definitely patriotic, in a stirring kind of way.

Today, we commemorate our country's ideals by eating hot dogs and lighting things on fire. This is, of course, for a very good reason, and that reason is that we are a country of imbeciles. Haha! No, really, there is a good reason, I'm just not sure what it is.

America has definitely had it's ups and downs, just like any country. Indeed, we have had our share of profound and resolute ideals (such as prohibition), along with some not-so-brilliant ideals (like the two-dollar bill). When all is said and done, however, I'm proud to be an American, and we are all truly blessed to live in this country.

God bless America! Let's light something on fire!

Feature: What I Bought

2006-07-02T00:36:00.000-07:00

I was recently in an airport where I passed a guy with shaggy, blonde hair and a Californian's complexion. He wore light-wash denim, a faded tee, and white tennis shoes, but it was the duffel he carried, however, that caught my eye. The sporty bag seemed to add a splash of color and athleticism to his otherwise drab look. Obviously, I took a mental note, and later found this same bag for sale. I snatched it.

The beauty of this bag lies in the fact that it is sturdy, spacious, and affordable. (Sounds like I'm advertising a condo.) As an added bonus, it can even make those of us who are about as fitness-savvy as a garden hose appear athletically inclined. This roomy duffel carries both retro appeal, and sweaty gym clothes with ease.

Adidas Santiago IV Duffel - Retail: $25

Parallels Of Music & Twinkies

2006-06-25T17:09:00.000-07:00

While songs with titles such as "Hips Don't Lie" and "Lean Wit It, Rock Wit It" dominate the Billboard charts, we can deduce two things: First, it's apparent that all of the good song titles must be taken. Second, and quite regretfully, the general public is becoming increasingly stupid. Is there any other explanation for songs that celebrate poor grammar and truthful waist sections? I don't think so. At least, not that I can see.

In order for you to understand the point I'm making, allow me to give you a brief history of music:

Music has been around for a long time, and much like Regis Philbin, it has no discernible origin. Good music didn't show up until around the 1950s. Before that, there wasn't really anything besides classical, but nobody cared about that stuff, except for maybe your piano teacher. Then came the sixties, which saw the rise of Rock 'n' Roll, and featured numerous albums from Cher. The seventies followed the sixties, which is no big surprise. This was an era dominated by British bands like The Beatles, The Troggs, The Who, The What, The Where, and The Why. This decade also featured numerous albums from Cher. Inevitably, the eighties came along, and it scared everyone to death. Long and frizzy was the hairstyle of choice, and hard rockers such as ACDC, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, and The Rolling Stones flourished. Obviously, the eighties era brought about chaos and confusion in the music world, but it also featured numerous albums from Cher. The 1990s came along, and not a moment too soon! Depending on who you ask, the nineties brought us either welcome resolve or further confusion. The good news was that the focus was finally off of hard rock and heavy metal. The bad news was that the focus went to "Teen Pop", which included bands like The Backstreet Boys, N*Sync, and 98 Degrees. (Apparently, there was a mistake at the music lab which resulted in three duplicate bands.) The nineties began to fade into the new millennium, but not until after it had featured numerous albums from Cher.

There you have it. The history of music in a nutshell. Now that you are up to speed, so to speak, are you not alarmed by the songs that get airtime? Whatever happened to meaningful lyrical content? Have we really sunk this low, even to such an extreme point that we are entertained by Shakira wailing about her anatomy? As sad as it is, I must admit that I am guilty in the first degree. Truly, I enjoy the latest tunes as much as the next person, and maybe even more. I imagine this is for the same reason I enjoy Twinkies. Sure, the nutritional content may be minimal, but that doesn't mean it's not delicious! At the same time, man can't live on Twinkies alone, right? It doesn't hurt to have a little salad now and then. (Think less Shakira, more Sinatra.)

My opinions don't stop there, but that's all I have to say for now. Thanks for reading!

Summer Playlist

2006-06-20T20:39:00.000-07:00

Just a few sunny tunes to enhance the happiness of Summer! You may say this selection is random, but I prefer "diverse". Old and new, popular and obscure; a little something for everyone! Enjoy...

Track 1: Summer In The City - The Lovin Spoonful

Track 2: Amber - 311

Track 3: Better Than Sunshine - Seven Foot Wave

Track 4: Blister In The Sun - Violent Femmes

Track 5: Someday - Sugar Ray

Track 6: There She Goes - The La's

Track 7: Summer Girls - LFO

Track 8: Steal My Sunshine - Len

Track 9: We're At The Top Of The World - The Juliana Theory

Track 10: A Summer Song * - Chad & Jeremy

* This song is, in my opinion, the definitive song of the Summer. It seems to capture the lazy, whimsical, joyous nuances that define the summertime. Listen, and you'll see what I mean.

Feel Special! Discover New Music!

2006-06-20T19:01:00.001-07:00

Lucky you! Today, you can increase your knowledge of music so that even the most snobbish, know-it-all music buff will fall under the shadow cast by your musical savviness. Sounds exciting, huh? Well, make this idea a reality and get your musically-challenged self to Pandora.com! Pandora is a free (at least for now) music discovery service, which allows you to create your very own online radio station which plays songs based on your unique tastes. Pandora was spawned out of the Music Genome Project, "the most sophisticated taxonomy of musical information ever collected." The idea behind the Music Genome Project is further explained on the website:

"For almost six years now, we have been hard at work on the Music Genome Project. It's the most comprehensive analysis of music ever undertaken. Together our team of thirty musician-analysts have been listening to music, one song at a time, studying and collecting literally hundreds of musical details on every song. It takes 20-30 minutes per song to capture all of the little details that give each recording its magical sound - melody, harmony, instrumentation, rhythm, vocals, lyrics ... and more - close to 400 attributes..."

As you can see, it's all quite elaborate, and a little over my head, so maybe you should just go see for yourself. Click here to create your customized music station.

Soundflavor offers a similar recommendation service which is more member-driven. Unfortunately, the registration is tedious, but the eventual service is quite eye-opening.

The Legend Of Tiger The Velcro Kitty

2006-06-03T21:13:00.000-07:00

I've been pondering something: When I flush the toilet in the airplane, where does all the slushy, blue-ish waste go? Does it get sucked into a sewage tank in the bowels of the aircraft? Does it spray out the back of the plane and land on some unlucky farmer's house?* Obviously, there are a lot of things in this world that I don't understand. I don't understand the Dow Jones (Who's he?), I don't understand Starbucks' drink sizes (Three different languages?), and above all, I don't understand house pets.

Let me start by saying that my dog Lucy is the dumbest dog in the universe, second only to yours. It's not that I hate dogs, or even cats for that matter, I simply do not understand them. If anyone in my family ever forgets to shut the garage door, Lucy will sneak in and steal shoes, or paper towels, or bottles of toxic weed killer, and then scamper away undetected. Later that day, she'll pace in front of the windows of our house with the object of her thievery protruding from her mouth, and her tail held high with pride. Now what in her history would lead her to believe that pilfering the garage is okay? I'm sure she would just as soon steal our car, but I imagine her lack of thumbs would make steering difficult.

The only time during the day that Lucy and I interact personally is in the area between the front door and the car, a stretch that gets longer every day. Even when I try to sneak out the door undetected, as I often do, her dog-sensors detect me. It's uncanny. As soon as I step outside, she's there, and after a short period of staring each other down like gunfighters in a western, we both break out into a run. Me for the car, and her for me. She doesn't seem to understand that I only want to drive away as fast as possible. In her eyes, I've come outside for the sole purpose of spending quality time with her. To show me her appreciation, she has muddied her paws and swiped a bottle of weed killer.

In my opinion, dogs are tolerable, and even enjoyable at times. Cats on the other hand... Well, if any of you readers are cat lovers, it's probably because you didn't grow up under the oppressive regime of Tiger the Velcro Kitty. During the daytime, Tiger was like any other cat. He would lounge around the house licking himself, only occasionally taking a break to look around the room with a placid expression. After the sun had gone down, however, Tiger the Velcro Kitty would emerge as the ruler the night, striking fear into the hearts of small children. With his black fur, glowing yellow eyes, and razor-sharp claws, Tiger would lie in wait like a Ninja, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When I was little, I had a difficult time sleeping in my own bed all alone. I was scared of the dark, you see, and the knowledge that Tiger the Velcro Kitty was lurking somewhere in the darkness was, shall we say, less than comforting. In the middle of the night, I would often choose to go to my parents' bedroom and sleep between them, because my own room was extremely creepy, and my parents bed was somehow a Safe Zone. I would crawl out from under my covers, jump over the pile of dirty clothes (lumped together in the shape of an evil blob monster), and I'd venture into the darkness in search of the Promised Land. All was fine until I reached the living room, where Tiger would lay beneath the couch waiting for me to pass by. As soon as my tender little legs were in sight, he would leap out from under the couch and latch onto me like... Well, like velcro. I would scream out in horror and bolt towards my parents' room, swatting at the evil Velcro Kitty with every step.

This scenario was repeated, with slight variation, every single night for a large portion of my childhood. How I have survived this long without therapy I'll never know, but perhaps now you understand my slight prejudice toward felines. I had to live with this nightly harassment for many years, and now, even after Tiger the Velcro Kitty has died and gone to that big litter box in the sky, the living room couch still gives me chills.

Comparatively, the occasional problems I have with Lucy are not so bad. I suppose I can put up with our daily door-to-car relays for a while longer. Who knows? Someday I might even miss it.

*" Edna! Git out here quick! The aliens are back!"

Noteworthy Ad Campaigns

2006-06-03T14:10:00.000-07:00

The idea behind TV ads is simple: Make the product look useful/helpful/awesome enough, and people will buy it. This is the generic thought process that drives so many advertising campaigns. In my opinion, there are only a few major companies today whose TV spots are not just alluring, but fantastically entertaining at the same time. One of these companies is Diet Coke. Like me, you have probably seen one or two of their commercials on TV, and if you have not, you're missing out. All four of the current spots can be seen at DietCoke.com, although you may have to download a recent flash player in order to view them. Out of the four, I don't have a personal favorite, but I'll give props to the "Rollergirl" ad, which features Paul Oakenfold's "Starry Eyed Surprise", an undeniably infectious dance tune.

Another giant in the advertising world is Apple, with iPod + iTunes. Ads featuring the black silhouette and white earbuds have become iconic, and the commercials are often as profitable for Apple as they are for the musicians whom are presented. Click on the names to view current spots featuring Wynton Marsalis, Wolfmother, and Eminem.

I'm Merging Onto The Freeway Of Insanity, Metaphorically Speaking

2006-05-12T22:53:00.000-07:00

So I was sitting at my desk, alphabetizing my M&Ms, when the phone suddenly rang. I answered it with my default "hello, this is Seth," after which the lady on the other end said that she must have dialed the wrong number. No big deal; this kind of thing happens all the time, so I cheerily said "no problem", followed by "guess I'll talk to you later!"

Just think about that for a moment.

After I hung up, I realized what a stupid thing that was to say. Guess I'll talk to you later? It was a wrong number, for crying out loud! The only way I would ever talk to her later would be if she dialed the wrong number again, which is improbable. These recurring situations cause people to wonder about my sanity, and I know they do because they occasionally say, "We wonder about your sanity."

I recall another incident in which a friend of mine, who had been driving a car behind me, informed me after we had parked that one of my brake lights was out. I looked at him and said, in all seriousness, "the one in the back?"

Again, think about that.

Before I even realized the stupidity of my comment, he delivered a sarcastic death-blow: "No Seth, I mean the brake light in the front."

Of course, vehicles have never been my forte. Driving makes me anxious, and to be honest, I'm not very good at it. After I received my driver's permit - much to the horror of my family I might add - I spent the first few weeks driving around with my hazard lights constantly flashing. After all, I consider myself to be a very big hazard, as do many others. One might say that I have a healthy fear of driving. One might also say that others have a healthy fear of me. For many people, the thought of Seth Brock behind the wheel is about as unsettling as a dentist with a meat cleaver. If you ever spot me on the road, you would be wise to take a detour, or perhaps leap out of your car and make for the border.

Well, I'd hate for us to end on that fearful note. The truth is, I have greatly improved in the area of driving, and I have come to trust myself. It's the other drivers I don't trust. As an example, just the other day I was driving home on the highway when my Mom called me, sounding quite frantic.

"Seth! I just heard on TV that there's an idiot driving the wrong way on the highway! He's heading into oncoming traffic! Be careful!"

I assured her that I would be very cautious. What she didn't know was that there was not just one idiot, but hundreds of them...

The Song of Robin Hood

2006-05-04T11:04:00.000-07:00

When I was but a wee lad, one of my favorite movies was Disney's Robin Hood, which I would watch over and over again. Then there came a day when I decided to take a stab at poetry, so needless to say, I couldn't think of a more fitting subject to my written masterpiece than Robin Hood. And so, with that in mind, allow me to introduce The Song of Robin Hood, written word-for-word in all it's glory.

There was a fat old man named Friar Tuck,
That had to owe ol' Robin Hood a buck,
Then he had to go "Cluck! Cluck!"
Then he was booted and he left us by truck
And then he was out of luck.

-Seth Brock, Age 3

Why did Friar Tuck feel compelled to cluck? Is there a moral to this poem? I have no idea. All I know is that in my three-year-old mind, it was a true work of art.

Role Models & Red Skivvies

2006-04-30T22:04:00.000-07:00

I spent a good part of my childhood wishing I had "The Force," like a Jedi Knight. Be honest, you probably fantasized about it too. Who could blame you? With just a wave of your hand, you could send a Stormtrooper flying across the room, or lift an X-Wing out of a massive lake of sewage. As kids, I think we are attracted to that kind of power because of our own sense of powerlessness. (I'm going to go all "Dr. Phil" on you for just a second.) You see, when you're little, everybody and everything is bigger than you. Hence, anything that represents power in some form is very attractive, which explains the appeal of Tonka trucks, toy guns, and of course, "The Force". As an example, my mother couldn't get us kids to eat our sandwich crust until, in a moment of parental genius, she told us that even Superman eats his crust. Well, she didn't have to say another word, because our little brains were already buzzing. Superman! Crust! Power!

Of course, now that I'm older, I look back upon my old role models with a chuckle. What I didn't realize as a kid was that those awesome and powerful figures had even bigger problems than I did. Sure, I was a powerless kid, but even a powerless kid is better than an adult who wears red underwear over his tights. There are some things a grown man shouldn't do, and that is about six of them. If I had access to a time-travel machine - preferably a silver DeLorean - I would go back to the year 1992, and I would tell Little Seth to look up to slightly more realistic and reputable figures, like George Bush or George Washington. I'd even settle for George Foreman. Even now, I can just picture myself standing in front of Little Seth.

Me: "Hey there, Little Seth! You might want to think about changing your role models."

Little Seth: "No! I want to be like Superman! He can fly!"

Me: "Hate to break it to you kid, but Superman isn't a real person. Even if he was, you don't really want to be like a guy who wears his skivvies on the outside, do you?"

[Momentary pause.]

Little Seth: "But he can fly!"

Needless to say, I've given up my dreams of becoming a Jedi. With my clumsiness, I'd probably flick on my lightsaber while holding it backwards, thus shish-kabobbing myself and putting an abrupt end to my padawan-ship. And that is not the Jedi way. As far as my lofty aspirations of becoming Superman, well... I'm scared of heights, I can't fly, and above all else, I don't do tights.

Don't think that my lofty aspirations are completely dashed. Not at all, they have simply evolved from unrealistic, to slightly more graspable. Still, let's just say that I wouldn't slam the door if somebody approached me with a potential superhero proposition. This is highly unlikely, because all of the good superhero names are taken, and I would probably end up with something like Flea Boy or Captain Weasel. So as I said, the idea of a superhero proposition is not likely, but then again nothing is impossible.

Actually, there is one thing that is pretty much impossible. Have you ever tried slamming a revolving door? Now that is impossible.

Feature: What I Bought

2006-04-20T13:42:00.000-07:00

There's a couple reasons to love this new line of teas, brought to you by the geniuses at POM Wonderful.

Reason 1: This brand new addition to the POM lineup comes in four unique flavors: Pomegranate Black Tea, Pomegranate Lychee Green Tea, Pomegranate Peach Passion White Tea, and Pomegranate Blackberry Black Tea.

Reason 2: As you can see, a main ingredient is pomegranate.

Reason 3: I guess Reason 2 wasn't really a reason.

Reason 4: Niether was Reason 3...

Reason 5: Getting back on track, not only does POM's tea line taste great, but it's good FOR you! The fantastic health benefits of the pomegranate fruit are too numerous to mention, which is why I won't.

Reason 6: The new tea line is a great way to get all of the benefits of the original POM juice in a new, less potent way. (Don't get me wrong, I love the original POM juice, but I also like a little change now and then.)

Reason 7: The cylindrical glass is a lot of fun to drink from, but is also prone to spills when one is driving at breakneck speeds to get to choir practice on time.

If those aren't enough reasons to go check this beverage out, then go to the POM Wonderful website, and see for yourself.

POM Tea - Retail: $3+

Easter With The Simons

2006-04-16T08:12:00.000-07:00

We need to change the Easter mascot. The idea of an Easter Bunny (who is a rabbit), hiding eggs (which are eggs), is just plain confusing, not to mention unnatural. Eggs come from chickens, and yet there is no Easter Chicken. Rabbits don't lay eggs, they just drop pellets. Mind you, I am NOT proposing that children should paint rabbit pellets, I am simply saying that something must be done to avoid the confusion. Personally, I'm not going to do anything about it. My job is to write about problems, not solve them. Although I must admit that, in a display of raw genius, I once completed a Soduku puzzle.

Let us not forget, however, that Easter is a religious holiday. It celebrates the day that Jesus Christ rose from the dead. You see, Jesus died on the cross and was buried in a tomb. (Quite the exit, wouldn't you say?) Three days later, just as He'd promised, He arose from the dead. (Quite the encore, wouldn't you say?) This is the reason we celebrate this holiday; because Christ died, rose again, and in no time at all, He was back to His usual antics of teaching multitudes, and telling lucid parables to "The Twelve". By "The Twelve," I'm referring to the disciples who, according to a less-than-reliable Google search, included Andrew, Luke, Matthew, Mark, Bartholomew, Simon, Simon Peter, Simon Cowell, Simon the Zealot, Simon the Terrible, Groucho, John, Paul, George, and Ringo.

These thousands of years after that first Easter, people everywhere commemorate the event by hiding eggs for children to find. This must be symbolic, but I'm not sure how. Quite frankly, I never enjoyed egg hunts until somebody invented the plastic egg. Prior to that Nobel Prize-worthy innovation, kids like me would work our little Easter-keisters off trying to find an egg, and once we found one, we'd hold it above our heads proudly. Of course, the reality would strike moments later, and I would think to myself, "I found an egg!... Now what?" Perhaps finding the egg was enough to satisfy some kids, but not me. I wanted to know what the purpose was. Was I searching for the egg simply for the satisfaction of finding it, or was I hoping for a pay-off of some sort? A few years later, and to my great exuberance, "they" invented the plastic egg, which was filled with candy. Now that's what I'm talking about. Immediate pay-off. True incentive.

In conclusion - and yes, I must conclude - here's hoping you have a great Easter holiday, filled with great Easter memories, and great Easter candy. Tomorrow morning, you will have a great Easter candy hangover, brought to you by the great Easter Chicken. Bunny. Whatever.

Pleasing The Reader, Offending The Irish

2006-04-10T19:40:00.000-07:00

Speaking as the lead columnist for The Spill, I must admit that it is difficult to consistently inject humor into each and every post. You see, I'm on an extremely tight leash; my editor refuses to tolerate any jokes based on violence, crude humor, or racial slurs. (Also known as the Foundations of Humor.) Hence, jokes that I jot down on my hand throughout the day usually end up totally scrubbed. Scrubbed from my hand, scrubbed from the post. So as you can see, writing for The Spill is no spring chicken. I have to come up with brand-new, squeaky-clean jokes for every post. This is an extremely tasking job, and I must admit that I occasionally resort to filling space by way of unnecessary words and incorrect usage of idioms. (As demonstrated two sentences ago.)

Sometimes, when my editor is in an unusually good mood - or perhaps in Hawaii - I can get away with a sliver of "iffy" material, but nothing too serious. Staying away from sensitive ethnic subjects is a good rule of thumb, but I also think that this sort of humor has it's place. Allow me to make my point:

Q: What's the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral?

A: One less drunk!

Sure, a joke like this may seem harmless, but I'm sure that somewhere out there, there is a furious little guy in a green hat who is waving his cane and shouting, "watch yer step, laddy!"

The point I'm making is that "edgy" humor, in proper proportion, can be very funny. But just like chili, too much is not a good idea. It's important to realize that there is a fine line between harmless jabbing and cultural bias, though I'll admit that the line seems fuzzy at times.

Basically, we at The Spill do our best to please everybody as often as we can, and we do realize that seemingly harmless wisecracks about the Irish can result in hate mail from Irishmen. In all honesty, the thought of angry leprechauns scares us to death.

Note: For those of you who don't know, leprechauns - native to Ireland - are essentially Keebler elves with funny accents. You see, every culture refers to their vertically-challenged citizens in a unique way: Ireland has leprechauns, Germany has dwarfs, America has Danny DeVito, etc.

By revealing what I go through in order to write a post, please don't misunderstand me. I don't mean for it to sound like writing for The Spill is a burden. On the contrary, I am tickled that you are reading what I've written, and I couldn't be more grateful. As of right now, this blog has about 4,500 page hits, and we at The Spill rarely pass up an opportunity to gloat about these numbers. Of course, it seems much less significant when you deduce the three-thousand hits that are from my mother, but even if there are only a few consistent readers, I am very thankful for them.

Does this post have a point? No, not really. But I still hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading.

Casual readers stop here.
Irishmen please continue reading.

Dear Irish person
(or person of Irish descent),

If this post has offended you in any way, I extend my deepest apologies. The truth is, I love Ireland. I really do. My favorite color is green. I think the University of Notre Dame is a great school. Please forgive me, and tell the IRA to shoulder their firearms. Please.

Sincerely,

Seth Brock - The Spill

Coca-Cola Blak

2006-04-03T19:46:00.000-07:00

The press release describes Coca-Cola's new beverage as "Coke efferfescence with coffee essence." Indeed, Coke is introducing Blak, a beverage that combines the flavors of classic Coke, and coffee. My first response when I watched the television spot was, "Eww." However, the more I read about it, the more curious I have become, and I'm now at the point where I actually look forward to tasting it. You can read more about it here. I'll let you draw your own conclusions, but personally, I can't wait to try it.

Feature: What I Bought

2006-03-28T16:35:00.000-08:00

Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream is my weakness. My kryptonite. There's not a single diet I've been on that hasn't eventually yielded to the overwhelming power of these pint-sized monsters. You know what the worst part of it is? I love it.

I have three favorite flavors at the moment. Chubby Hubby, for my chocolate-y fix; Cherry Garcia, for my fruity fix; and Magic Brownies, for a taste of both. They are so creamy, so incredibly delectable, that once you start, you will have a very hard time stopping.

Go to Ben&Jerry's.com to explore the vast number of flavors available. While you're there, visit the "Flavor Graveyard" for a humorous look at the hundreds of flavors that just never caught on.

Ben & Jerry's Pint - Retail: $4

The Madness Of March

2006-03-21T08:55:00.000-08:00

Ask an average woman what time of year it is, and she will most likely tell you that it's March, or even broader, Springtime. Ask a guy what time of year it is, and without skipping a beat, he will shout "March Madness," and start whooping like an idiot. Yes, that time of year is upon us. That month during which mankind becomes physically inseparable from his couch cushion, while womankind's hands become physically inseparable from mankind's neck.

I'm kidding, of course. In the many years that this college basketball event has been televised, women have learned to adapt quite well for these thirty-one man-less days. Believe it or not, some wives even go into "Stepford Mode": They are willing to clean up the cold pizza, keep your Coke glass full, and even give you a sponge-bath now and then. (Mainly to purge their living room of that "manly stench.") They are willing to do all of this, because they know that come April, you will owe them. Big time. And you WILL take them to that Garden Show.

Still, the month of March is a guy's dream come true: Thirty-one glorious days of non-stop basketball, sports news, and humorous beer commercials. The only time a guy needs to leave the comfort of his couch is if he has to use the restroom or grab another bag of Ruffles. Hence, usually during halftime, he will come plodding into the kitchen in search of food, with a couch cushion attached to his posterior. Like something you'd see on a nature program, the food is found, consumed, and in a matter of moments the creature is back on his couch in a zen-like state of basketball meditation. With the remote in one hand and a Coke in the other, he stares at the TV completely motionless, eyes glazed over.

Speaking from experience, I warn you not to be fooled by this tranquil behavior, because it's only temporary. This is unfortunate for those of us who are easily scared. In this "glazed" state, a guy is much like a jack-in-the-box... From hell. Periodically, and completely without warning, he will leap off of his couch with a piercing whoop while his chips fly in every direction. Within an instant, he is settled on the couch once again, as if the spontaneous celebration had never happened. Many innocent onlookers and domestic pets have suffered heart-failure during these impulsive outbursts, which is why women are always in a different room during the games.

Just to clarify, there are a few guys like myself who are not this involved and obsessive when it comes to March Madness. I am part of the small percentage of men who do not care about every player, every game, and every statistic. I usually tune into a game when it's about half over, and I root for whatever team is losing at the time. That's my strategy.

To the uneducated layman, the entire NCAA competition is rather confusing. As far as I can tell, this is for two reasons: One, every other team in the tournament is named "The Bulldogs," "The Huskies," or possibly "The Husky Bulldogs," and two, because a few of these teams come from states that your schoolteacher failed to mention. Yes, we all know where Missouri is ("Somewhere in the middle"), and it's obvious that there would be at least a dozen teams represented by California, but what kind of state is George Mason? Believe it or not, there really is a team in the NCAA called the George Mason Patriots. Where in the world is George Mason? Your guess is as good as mine, but if you were to ask somebody more geographically-inclined, I'm sure they could tell you where it's precise location is. Most likely, somewhere in the middle.

So alas, here we are in the heat of March. A time when men are useless, women are tolerant, and people like me are clueless. Like I said, I'm not one of those die-hard fanatics, but I do know that there is one game I'll definitely watch: The Husky Bulldogs vs. George Mason.

Public Speaking

2006-03-20T23:27:00.000-08:00

A Poem by Seth Brock

I may be many things, but a speaker I'm not.
Yes, I tried once, but was worse than I thought.
I'll freely admit it, no need to be proud,
I'm frightfully frightened of speaking for crowds.
I can chat with my reflection in front of a mirror,
But when speaking for people, I'm rigid with fear.

It's no easy thing to speak for a crowd,
You feel your heart thump in your ears so loud.
The sweat on your forehead, the lump in your throat,
It's hard to make sense of your senseless notes.
You try to break the ice with a really lame joke,
But this ice won't crack, your words go up in smoke.

I remember one time, I was called up to speak
On a very tall stage. How my knees were so weak!
The spotlight was on, and I felt very warm,
But in spite of my nerves, I would "ride out the storm."
I began to speak, but just moments after,
The crowd burst out in hysterical laughter.

I wanted to finish, but never had the chance,
As they laughed, I saw I was not wearing pants.
Oh, the embarrassment! What a terrible feeling!
In a very different way, my speech was revealing.
Covering myself, I let out half a scream...

Then I woke with a sigh: it had all been a dream.

Spring Playlist

2006-03-20T10:36:00.000-08:00

These are a few tunes I'm just crazy about right now. Let's kick off the Spring with some great music, shall we? Enjoy!

Track 1: Get Your Way - Jamie Cullum

Track 2: More Than Anyone - Gavin DeGraw

Track 3: Eleanor Put Your Boots On - Franz Ferdinand

Track 4: Here We Go Again - Ray Charles & Norah Jones

Track 5: She's Got Everything - Old 97's

Track 6: I Want You Back - The Jackson 5

Track 7: Time After Time - Sugar Ray

Track 8: You Are The Woman - Firefall

Track 9: Hey There Delilah - Plain White T's

Track 10: An Old Fashioned Love Song - Three Dog Night

News Flash: Mangos In Peril!

2006-03-14T11:21:00.000-08:00

As if global warming isn't enough to worry about, we now have another disaster on our hands. Namely, Killer Mango-Eating Beetles. This new crisis has been addressed in a recent article from Fox News entitled, and I am dead-serious here, "Mango-Devouring Asian Beetle Lands In Miami." The title tells all. Jennifer Connors, an agency spokeswoman in Miami, said of the beetle, "It came straight from Hong Kong because that's where the biggest population of these beetles are."

In response to this accusation, an Asian spokesperson has issued the following statement: "suki psi chen mhitali ksau tia suchen mikasula phi taoling!!"

Here at The Spill, our crack team of translators assure us that by this, they mean business, also evident by the duel exclamation points. Whether they are apologetic, contradictory, or entirely irate is unclear at the moment. One thing is for sure: we haven't seen them this worked-up since Godzilla.

So what can we do in anticipation of these insects sweeping through our country, devouring our mango crops and who knows what else? My advice, just do what I'm doing: attempting to set a Guinness Record for Longest Paper-Clip Chain. (I'm at thirty-seven feet!) Or, if you are one of those "responsible Americans" with "scruples," you can contact the United States Department of Agriculture and whine to them. Personally, I wouldn't worry too much about it. In fact, before you do anything drastic - like move to New Zealand, or invest a fortune in bug spray - just remember this: the last time our homeland was invaded by beetles, they were fairly peaceful, and promptly topped the music charts with their hit, "Here Comes The Sun." (It has not been confirmed, but it is suspected that the title of that song is a metaphor for mangos.)

But again, I propose that you do absolutely nothing in response to the invasion. History proves that these kind of situations, given time, will sort themselves out. You probably never heard of the Canadian/American War, did you? Of course you didn't! It worked itself out as soon as Canada came to the realization that they did not, technically, have an army. So you see, ignoring the beetles might be in our best interest.

In other news, things have remained pretty much the same: troublesome. Yes, the news networks continue to inform us that there is trouble everywhere, whether it be in the Middle East, professional sports, or your cholesterol. You've heard it all before. These days, you might not read a newspaper for a week, but when you finally get around to it, you will find that you haven't missed much. Another celebrity break-up, another earthquake in China... There is nothing new under the sun.

Well, except for the Mango-Devouring Beetle Invasion, which is why I felt compelled to comment on it. Now that I have, and my work here is finished, you can return to your regularly scheduled day. I should probably get back to work too, now that I'm out of paper-clips.

Top 8 Accidental Discoveries

2006-03-14T10:34:00.000-08:00

Navy experiments, laboratory goofs, and diner spats. Each of these have one thing in common: They spawned some of the most important medicines, foods, and products of our time. The following is a list of the greatest accidental discoveries ever. This is serendipitous advancement at its finest.

#1 The Slinky
Richard Donner, a military researcher, was experimenting with spring tension for Navy ships. He was fascinated when a spring fell off of his table and "walked" on the floor. The rest is history. (Read more at Wikipedia.com)

#2 X-Rays
Several scientists toyed with the penetrating rays emitted when electrons strike a metal target. However, the X-ray wasn't invented until 1895, when Wilhelm Rontgen tried sticking various objects in front of the radiation, and saw the bones of his hand projected on the wall. (Read more at Wikipedia.com)

#3 Penicillin
Alexander Flemming was researching the flu in 1928 when he noticed a blue-green mold had infected one of his petri dishes - and killed the flu-inducing bacteria within it. (Read more at Wikipedia.com)

#4 Artificial Sweetener
While attempting to create an anti-ulcer drug candidate, James M. Schlatter licked some aspartame residue from his finger during the experiment, and realized that this white substance was very sweet. He then took a coffee break. (Read more at Wikipedia.com)

#5 Microwave Ovens
Percy Spencer was building radar sets for the United States Army. While working on an active magnetron, he discovered that the candy bar in his pocket had begun to melt. Voila! (Read more at Wikipedia.com)

#6 Silly Putty
An employee of General Electric, James Wright, was trying to find a substitute for artificial rubber, when he dropped boric acid into silicone oil by mistake. GE shipped this new "putty" to all of it's branches. Nobody found a genuine use for it, but everyone loved playing with it. (Read more at Wikipedia.com)

#7 Potato Chips
When a picky customer continued sending his fried potatoes back to the kitchen because they were "too thick," chef George Crum tried to spite him by slicing his potatoes so thin, that they couldn't be eaten with a fork. Against George's expectations, the customer loved the crispy potatoes, and soon "Saratoga Chips" were a staple on the restaurant's menu. (Read more at Wikipedia.com)

#8 Post-It Notes
Spencer Silver, a researcher, was trying to come up with a strong adhesive, when he instead invented something much weaker than he'd hoped. No immediate application was apparent, but a colleague soon came up with the idea of creating bookmarks with the adhesive and strips of paper. The Post-It Note was born. (Read more at Wikipedia.com)

The Golden-Gate Bridge, And Other Lies

2006-03-06T11:07:00.000-08:00

If I ever write an autobiography, I'm sure that at least a few chapters will center around my childhood disillusionment. I would write about the things I learned as a child that I have found to be untrue in recent years. As I matured, it's as if my childhood veil of ignorance was lifted, and I was exposed to the harsh truths of adult life. I won't bore you now; you can read more on this someday in my autobiography.

By the way, an autobiography isn't really a book about cars as some of you may think. Or maybe it was just me who thought that, before the "veil" was lifted.

To this day, I continue to learn the facts behind things that I was totally comfortable with the other way. Example: You know the money you get from ATM machines? Well, turns out that it comes from your account. A rude awakening to be sure. Of course, now that I know this, I'm going to be more careful in the future regarding withdrawals. Like I said, this disillusionment is part of growing up. I learned that Santa wasn't real when I was five. (Although, to this day, I don't know who kept eating those cookies...) When I was ten, I found out that the so-called "Golden-Gate Bridge" is actually orange, and not really golden at all. Then at age 12, after a bad joke I told in a room full of ladies, I was embarrassed to find out that "panties" was not just a funny way of saying "pants." You see?

So here I am somewhere between childhood and adulthood, trying to separate lies from truths, but afraid to open my mouth at the risk of another "panties" episode.

Honestly, the things I once believed... Well, the past is like a Sharpie: once it's down, it can't be erased. [Note to Editor: That last sentence was a very profound quote that I just made up. Please save it somewhere. We'll use it again, because it makes me sound smart.] I have taken it upon myself to teach the younger generation the truth whenever I get a chance. This is for their own good; so that in the course of their maturing, they will have the least amount of "panty episodes" as possible. Sadly, no matter what I teach them, they are predestined to goof up anyway. After all, to err is human, but it's important that we do not concentrate on past failures, because the past is like a Sharpie. [Note to Editor: Was that too soon?]

Where was I? Oh yes. To err is human and I'm pretty sure that whoever coined that phrase meant to say "error," but he garbled the last two letters together, or was misquoted. Perhaps he himself "erred," but it's okay. It's only human.

I looked after some small children the other day, and I saw it as the perfect opportunity to, shall we say, mold their minds. It's important to do this while they're still young and impressionable, meaning "not terribly smart." I am not saying that these children are stupid, they are simply... Pre-logical. Interestingly, this pre-logic reveals itself in different ways according to the gender of the child. For the little boys in the group, there are certain principles they can't seem to grasp, such as gravity. This explains why the little ones will repeatedly fling themselves from high surfaces. The little girls, on the other hand, want to play with jewelry, and various other shiny and expensive items. Unfortunately, they never grow out of this.

At the beginning of the night, I sat the children down, and laid out some basic rules such as:

Rule #1: There will be no hitting and/or fighting of any kind. This includes, but is not limited to, sword-fighting with the toilet plunger.

Rule #2: Flinging yourself from any surface that is taller than you is forbidden.

Rule #3: Animal crackers, when not in the box, must be in your mouth or on their way to it. They do NOT belong in the toilet, in your diaper, or crushed into the carpet.

Rule #4: It is NOT funny to take Mr. Seth's glasses off of his face, and watch him run into walls trying to chase you.

The list of rules went on, but you get the idea. A strict code of conduct was necessary in order to maximize their learning in the short time period we had. I thought I was prepared for the evening. I thought I could control the situation. The children, however, proved me wrong. Before you could say "drop that plunger," the kids were flinging themselves from heights, choking on crackers, and finding increasingly imaginative ways to kill themselves. It was hectic. The few hours seemed like an eternity of saving kids' lives and chasing my glasses, but finally, the parents came, and with them my salvation. Like a hellish tornado, the kids were gone just as quick as they'd come, and I was suddenly alone feeling just a little bit dazed. As I surveyed the room, I was amazed at the carnage that such little ones had left in their wake. The room looked like Hiroshima, but with animal crackers.

As it turned out, my mission had been much more difficult then I had anticipated. It's as if children won't stay still long enough to teach anything. As I said before, all I am trying to do is save them from future embarrassment by revealing truths to them, but they seem to be perfectly comfortable where they're at. Oh well, maybe it's better this way. I need to just move on, and not dwell on the past. You see, the past is like a Sharpie...

The Best Movies You've Never Seen

2006-02-21T13:27:00.000-08:00

Always one to root for the underdog, I have decided to compile a list of some of the greatest, and most under-appreciated films of all time. In my opinion anyways. Perhaps some of you have seen them, but I'm betting there are a few who have never even heard of a couple of these.

Equilibrium - 2002
Starring Christian Bale and Taye Diggs

This Sci-Fi action movie was over-shadowed by the success of the "Matrix" trilogy. This is a shame, because although "Equilibrium" was made on a smaller budget, the story and the action sequences are as good, and in some cases better than "The Matrix". I warn you: the final confrontation between Christian Bale and the main baddie ends in a very cheesy way. If you forgive that one scene, however, then it's a pretty good flick.

Memorable Scene: When Preston (Bale) and bad guy DuPont get up-close-and-personal with a pair of pistols in the final moments of the film. It's an awesomely choreographed fight sequence.

Envy - 2004
Starring Ben Stiller and Jack Black

The hilarious story of a dreamer (Black) who makes it big with a new invention, while his next door neighbor and best friend (Stiller) becomes increasingly envious of his over-night success. This movie begs not to be taken seriously, with the over-the-top acting, a cheesy soundtrack, and numerous scenes that seem more Saturday Night Live than Hollywood. However, it's those major differences from main stream comedies that make this such an entertaining movie.

Memorable scene: Christopher Walken steals the show as "The J-Man" in his funniest role since the Blue Oyster Cult skit. So really, any scene with him in it is memorable.

Frequency - 2001
Starring Dennis Quaid and Jim Caviezel

After a once-in-a-lifetime freak of nature involving the northern lights and a radio, a man is able to communicate with his father... Who has been dead for thirty years. As cheesy as the premise sounds, Frequency is a surprisingly engaging film. Part drama, part crime thriller, it definitely will put you on the edge of your seat. The performances are good, the story is good, and I was quite pleasantly surprised by the whole movie. I had never heard of it before I watched it, and my whole family liked it so much that we bought it.

Memorable scene: The scene where Frank (Quaid) is in the killer's apartment when the killer walks in. It's tense stuff.

That Thing You Do - 1996
Written, Directed, and Starring Tom Hanks

This film chronicles the rise and fall of a 60's garage band. Of all the movies on this list, you'll probably enjoy this one the most. It's a fun - and funny - look at a fictional band called The Wonders, and their brief fling with fame.

Memorable Scene: The high school talent show.

What's Up Doc? - 1972
Starring Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neal

A screwball comedy involving a musicians convention, a government conspiracy, and stolen jewels. This is a movie my sister rented once. Needless to say, I really didn't expect to like it, but I laughed through the whole thing! The dialogue is fantastic, and funnier with every viewing. This is no Friday night blockbuster, but it caters well to summer afternoon laziness.

Memorable Scene: The courtroom. Possibly the funniest bit I've ever seen.

Security Notice: Missing Bobblehead

2006-02-05T12:10:00.000-08:00

Today's topic: Hybrid Vehicles. Will the mass production of cars running on alternate fuel be a major technological advancement, like the lightbulb? Or will it be a gargantuan mistake that wreaks havoc upon the world's populace, like the bagpipes? All I know is, with all of the toxic fumes we put in the air - emitted by things like gasoline, diesel, and Dijon mustard - it's a miracle we haven't punctured the ozone layer yet. It's only a matter of time before our pollution completely removes the protective layers of earth, exposing us to meteor showers and other horrors seen in sci-fi movies. As a matter of fact, a recent article stated that a meteor, approximately the size of Texas, is scheduled to collide with our planet around the year 2104. I, personally, plan to be dead, so no need to worry about it.

Instead, let's discuss a subject that stirs the heart of the American male, causing his red, white, and blue blood to boil. No, I'm not talking about Saving Private Ryan, or Home Depot, or 24 hour Drive-Thru windows, I'm talking about sports.

My Dad and I recently went to a basketball game. From time to time, one tends to forget how much fun watching a live professional basketball game is. It truly is a good time. Of course, in our post-9/11 state of "heightened security", a guy can't even enjoy a basketball game without going through security first. Thought you left them at the airport along with your lighter? Think again. At a basketball game however, they could care less about your lighter, your pocketknife, or your unusually sharp tweezers, they're after your purses. That's good news for us guys, who just walk by and smile at the plump little security lady, possibly named "Marge." She'd only stop a guy if he were obviously hiding something under a big coat, otherwise, you just breeze right by. Consequently, if you would look over your shoulder after entering the stadium, you'd see a long line of irritated women who stand in limbo while Marge roots through their personals.

As soon as Dad and I passed through security, we were each handed - I kid you not - a FREE bobblehead doll! I know, it seems childish for a couple of guys to get excited about a plastic figurine with a wobbly noggin, but to be honest, we were.

Could it be that it meant something more? Perhaps this free bobblehead was metaphorically significant, representing our great society. The land of the free. A place where hard-working Americans are rewarded for their work, sometimes with free toys. Well, metaphorically significant or not, these bobbleheads were a pleasant surprise.

Have I mentioned the food? Dad and I agree, it's one of the greatest things about going to a game. Of course, being the savvy eaters that we are, we decided that the best time to attack the plethora of eateries in the main hall would be after we'd located and secured our seats.

An usher stopped us and asked to see our tickets. He showed us where our seats were, so we marked our territory by throwing whatever was in our hands - our jackets, programs, and bobbleheads - on seats 26 and 27. With that, we nodded at each other, and headed toward the food.

Oh, the variety! Pizza, hot dogs, BBQ ribs, onion rings, nachos, various items smothered in an orange substance called "cheez", etc. So much to eat, and so little time. After loading up with all the food we could carry (which was quite a bit, if I may brag), we started back to our seats.

As we approached, the usher stopped us again, not recognizing us.

"It's okay," I said, peeking around my little mountain of deep-fried goods, "it's just us!"

He chuckled, apparently at his own foolishness, and told us to go ahead. As I approached my seat, however, I knew that something was different. My worst fears were confirmed when Dad looked at me and said the words I expected him to say.

"Where's your bobblehead?"

Yes, I looked around, above, and below my seat, and the toy was nowhere to be found. That's right, someone had STOLEN it while we were getting food! I thought about yelling at a referee, because if there's one thing I've learned from basketball, it's that if something goes wrong, it's the ref's fault. But I didn't, because I knew it wouldn't change the fact that my bobblehead was gone.

I was shattered but only for the moment. I didn't let it ruin the game for me though. After all, Dad and I had been anticipating this game with great... umm, anticipation. So in the big scheme of things, I guess the bobblehead is pretty insignificant. Still, there are three questions I have about the evening:

1. What kind of sicko steals a bobblehead?
2. Where was Marge when I needed her?
3. How did a blob of "cheez" end up on my left sock?

All in all, the game was enjoyable, and Dad and I had a great time. One thing's for sure: the next time I go to a Blazer game, in order to avoid theft, I'm bringing pepper spray. I'm just not sure how I'll get it past Marge...

Feature: What I Bought

2006-01-28T20:07:00.000-08:00

America: Land of the free, home of the caffeine-loving public. There are some who shun energy drinks, and I'm sure they have their reasons. Perhaps these people prefer to stick to whatever source of caffeine they're comfortable with, like coffee or Mountain Dew. Maybe some people are scared off by the toxic-sounding ingredients in an energy drink, such as "ginseng". No matter, because there are many people who embrace these glorious Libations of Everlasting Stamina and Youth, myself included. This particular beverage, Full Throttle Fury, has a distinct orange flavor, not common amongst energy drinks. It brings to mind the citrusy taste of Fanta or Slice, but unlike these relatives, Fury packs a punch that will yank you out of the depths of drowsiness. Anyway, if you're in need of a buzz, give it a try sometime.

Full Throttle Fury - Retail: $2

Remember the Voucher!

2006-01-19T18:27:00.000-08:00

Word to the wise: Never, ever, ever try to return an electronic device back to its store. It doesn't matter if this electronic device is broken, is not broken, or may be broken when you're finished bestowing your wrath upon it. None of that plays a part in it, as far as the store is concerned. Truly, I speak from experience when I say that simply returning a product is a task which is much easier said than done. Why should you not even bother trying? Because of a little something known as the "Business Evolution Theory." This is the explanation for the change that has taken place in the last 50-some years of business administration, to the dismay of consumers worldwide. Don't look too deep into this on your own; information regarding said theory is rather scarce at present. Because I sort of invented it. I was going to call it the "Chaos Theory," but come to find out, that title is taken. Someday, I may write an entire book on this subject and become filthy rich, but until then, this will have to suffice.

Big Businesses once followed the old creed which said "the customer is always right." Unfortunately for Joe Consumer,* these Big Businesses eventually discovered that the average customer was, in actuality, not always right. Further examination revealed that the majority of the general public had roughly the same IQ as your standard walnut. Upon this revelation, Big Businesses started to get evil. I picture a room full of stuffy-looking, suit-wearing rich people, who amuse themselves by creating more hoops for people to jump through**. Such as Mail-in Rebates.

So, there's the evolution. From "the customer is always right," to "the customer is dumb as seaweed." At least, that's the only explanation I can see that explains product warning labels seemingly aimed at completely brainless people. Such as "DO NOT ATTEMPT TO SWALLOW THIS PRODUCT" or "DO NOT SET FIRE TO THIS PRODUCT IN A ROOM FULL OF HYDROGEN," and so forth. Who really does these things?

I'm saying all of this, because recently I had to take a malfunctioning Mp3 player back to the electronics-oriented store from which it had come. To avoid any unnecessary bias, I'll not say exactly which establishment I'm referring to. I'll only say that the stores' colors are blue and yellow, and the company's name rhymes with "Blessed Pie." One tends to forget from time to time just how much is required when returning a product, but I was sure I had everything. Original receipt, original packaging, picture ID, blood sample, fingerprints, and a written record of every phone call I've made in the last five years. I had it all... So I thought.

"Next!"

The lady behind the customer service counter motioned to me. I approached, attempting to hide my timidity behind a grin. I was timid because I knew that these negotiations rarely go as planned. Hence, I was rather surprised that as I proceeded to explain my predicament, she stood there listening intently. Things were going so well, in fact, that I soon begin to wonder if I wasn't carrying on a conversation with a mannequin, a scenario which is not completely foreign to me. However, those momentary suspicions were dashed as she interrupted my spiel.

"So do you have a Replacement Voucher?"

All the confidence I had built up during our negotiation had been completely dashed by her words, and I was reduced to my former state of timidity. I had worried that something like this would happen.

"Umm... No, I don't have the 'voucher' thingy," I admitted. "But I do have the receipt, and the original packaging, and..."

"Sorry, sir, but I can't help you unless you have a replacement voucher."

"Are you sure?"

She raised an eyebrow, as if to tell me that I was pushing my luck, a fact that I was already aware of.

"Okay then,' I conceded, "thanks for your help anyway."

My, how things have changed through time. Back in the Pre-Business Evolution days, sales people would bend over backwards to make sure a customer was happy. It dates all the way back to the days of the Louisiana Purchase.

USA: "Hey. We want to buy thirty-bajillion acres from you for dirt-cheap."

France: "Here, take it! And in a couple hundred years we'll build you a big, blue lady with a torch!"

You see?

Back to my story, I walked away from customer service defeated, having done all I could do. As un-Christian as it may be, I have to admit that I began entertaining thoughts of revenge. On my way out of the store, I secretly placed a few non-sale items onto the clearance table. I chuckled evilly at the thought of the chaos that would ensue when a customer would take that non-sale item to the cashier. Oh, the confusion! That'll get 'em. But nay, as I started out the doors, my conscience spoke in the form of a thought which scrolled through my head like a mental marquee.

"Art thou no better than they that seekest thine destruction?"***

Oh, the pain! The conviction was overwhelming. Was I really attempting to exact revenge upon those whose only crime was performing their jobs? Did I truly think it was my place to try and stick it to the man? I had done wrong. And I knew it. This was not, by any means, my finest hour. Yet as I turned to leave the store, I began to laugh, in a non-evil way, at the thought of somebody mistaking the full-priced product as a sale item. It wouldn't be that big a deal, would it? Sure it wouldn't! I've made that kind of mistake before, and you just laugh it off and move on, right? Well, I didn't feel so bad anymore. On the contrary, I was giving both of the as-of-yet-unknown parties something to laugh about! You see? So my intended evil would work out for good. Everybody wins!

Wow. Big load off my mind.

And if any of you readers happen to know what a "Replacement Voucher" is, please let me know. And thanks for reading.

* Not his real name. It's actually Bill Consumer.
** Funny, that's also how I picture Congress.
*** It's true. My conscience speaks in the King James Version.

Feature: What I Bought

2006-01-16T17:03:00.000-08:00

The internet is today's biggest, most exhaustive source of information and knowledge. With such a tool at one's disposal, it makes one wonder if, in the future, there will be a need for actual books. Well, if books like this continue to be printed, I believe there will be a need.

The New York Times' Guide To Essential Knowledge is to the reader, as a big, juicy steak is to... Someone who eats steak. It's like a dictionary, a thesaurus, and an encyclopedia all in one. If you ever need to know what Newton's Laws of Motion are, or how many people currently populate the Republic of Chad, or who on earth Carolus Linnaeus* is, then look no further than this book. A truly fantastic source of interesting - and often useless - bits of knowledge.

* A well-known botanist from Sweden, as it turns out.

The New York Times Guide to Essential Knowledge - Retail: $35

Mass Extermination of Fowl

2006-01-03T01:29:00.000-08:00

Today, we discuss a topic of relative importance. You may have noticed this is something that we at The Spill don't normally do, reason being that most topics of relative importance are boring as lettuce. There is this one topic, however, that has caught the attention of millions of people, myself included. I'm talking about one of today's biggest concerns: The Bird Flu Pandemic. You've no doubt read a thing or two about this fiasco in the paper or online. Hence, I won't bother you with details you already know. (If you have NOT read a thing or two, catch up here.) I speak for all of us when I say that something must be done about the Bird Flu. I myself have gone so far as to fabricate a solution for said problem but, due to time constraints, I'll not attempt to explain it here.

Actually, I don't care what my editor says. Time constraints or no time constraints, you deserve to hear my solution. Even if my continuing on in this manner results in me getting fired, at least you will know my solution. The truth. [patriotic music builds.] My only regret is that I have but one occupation to lose for my country. The solution shall be known. And it's a good thing I'm self-employed.

My Solution to the Bird Flu Pandemic

The long and short of it is this, and I hope you're keeping an open mind: We should nuke the entire earth's population of birds. Without the birds, the flu can no longer flourish. My plan is not limited to poultry, mind you. Extermination should also include even the most questionable species of fowl, such as penguins and loons; we can't afford to leave any room for error.

Rash? Perhaps. But given enough thought you will see that it is a very valid solution. Remember that a measure of such drastic proportions is sure to have it's "pros" and "cons", and this one definitely has them. Some "Pros" being that you'll never have to worry about finding cover when a flock of geese flies overhead, for there would be no geese. "Cons" would include the entire KFC franchise going under. Well, maybe not if they learn to market their mashed potatoes and coleslaw really well. They could always change their name to Kentucky Fried Coleslaw, then they wouldn't have to change a single sign. Although, I can't guarantee they'd get a lot of business with a name like that.

Actually, how about I leave the marketing to those who know about that kind of thing? I don't presume to have all the answers, but I have definitely given this Bird Flu solution some thought, and all I ask is that you think about it for a while. If you agree with my plan, pass the info to the Higher-Ups. If you are reading this and you are a Higher-Up, then see that a solid copy of this post gets to the President.

Winter Playlist

2006-01-02T18:57:00.000-08:00

Just a selection of songs that I've been listening to lately. I believe music is a very important part of winter, perhaps because singing along keeps me warm.

Track 1: You're Beautiful - James Blunt

Track 2: Shy That Way - Tristan Prettyman feat. Jason Mraz

Track 3: Have You Ever Seen The Rain? - CCR

Track 4: Cannonball - Damien Rice

Track 5: My Eyes Adored You - Frankie Valli

Track 6: For The Moments I Feel Faint - Relient K

Track 7: You Didn't Have To Be So Nice - The Lovin' Spoonful

Track 8: Ghost of a Good Thing - Dashboard Confessional

Track 9: Strange & Beautiful (I'll put a spell on you) - Aqualung

Track 10: Make My Life A Prayer To You - Keith Green

Best & Worst Gadgets of 2005

2006-01-01T23:34:00.000-08:00

Before we all get completely wrapped up in this new year, let's take a moment to reflect on what a beautiful year 2005 was. Technology-wise, at least. Our friends at Wired Magazine have compiled a list of the Best & Worst Gadgets of 2005. From the glorious Xbox 360, to the over-hyped Motorola ROKR, Wired has the scoop.

Click here for the complete article.

Thank You

2005-12-27T14:35:00.000-08:00

The staff here at The Spill would like to thank you, dear readers, for your encouragement through this holiday season. It has meant a lot to have your support through The Spill's first Christmas, and considering this, things have run quite smoothly in the past month. Together, we have reaffirmed the simple truths of Christmas, such as this: The greatest gifts in life don't come in a box. They come as Gift Cards.

As the season has now come to a close, The Spill has switched back to it's original colors and template, as you may have seen.

Once again, thank you for your encouragement.

(Bitter)Sweet Holiday Memories

2005-12-15T08:59:00.000-08:00

Last night while I was in bed worrying about the likeliness of dying in my sleep by pillow asphyxiation, I took a moment to reflect upon my fondest holiday-related memories. Before going back to worrying, that is. It seems as if those Christmas moments that are perfect, where everybody is laughing and having a great time, my brain doesn't find worthy of remembrance. But if you ever mention "Jingle Bells, Batman Smells", I will immediately recall the mistake I made that one Christmas Eve, wherein I interrupted a nice and quiet candlelight service by blurting out this festive ditty. Of course, I try not to refer to these situations as "mistakes", per se. I'd like to think of them as lessons. Yes, I admit it's a little hard to not think of them as mistakes, especially when I can also recall my mother's hand swinging over to cover my mouth - to save both of us from embarrassment, I suppose - at a velocity that sent me a few pews back. But truly, I wasn't a bad kid. I guess the holiday spirit overcame my little five-year-old self at a bad time. Right in the middle of a candlelight service, to be precise. Not to be confused with that one candlelight service where a lady's hair caught fire from a candle, and my aunt had to beat it out. No, that was a different year. No matter, the point I'm coming to is this: Why can't I remember more of the good times, and less of the... uh, "questionable" times? You know what I mean?

Oh yes, and another bittersweet Christmas memory: The Runaway Sled. This semi-disaster occurred one snowy afternoon while sledding with my siblings and a few cousins on the side of a large hill next to our house. This hill - known to us hardcore sledders as "The Dike" - was the sledders equivalent of a Triple-Black-Diamond, reason being that it was suicidally steep, and if you didn't bail out fast enough, you'd run smack into a barbed-wire fence. Oh, and on the other side of this fence was a relatively busy road. With cars and everything. And, slim as it was, there was always the chance that you could hit a gerbil, putting an abrupt end to your run.

Okay, in point of fact, there were no gerbils, but I've been wanting to use that word for a long time. Gerbil. Funny. I know, any credibility this post had built up just went out the window. I apologize. Just forget about the gerbil. On with the story:

The first few runs down the hill were "iffy", to put it delicately, but a few mangled kids later, we had developed a pretty fluid routine: "Sledder" sits on sled, two "Pushers" push Sledder, Sledder endures about 3.5 seconds of terror, Sledder bails, looks up at Pushers and pretends to have enjoyed it, lugs sled back up hill, then repeats. A vicious cycle, to be sure. But this was fun, as we frequently reminded each other. When my turn came around, I sat on the sled, looking down the hill. Which, by the way, looked much steeper from the top.

I blame my Pushers for what happened next.

The groove that had been worn into the side of the hill by our numerous runs served as a sort of track to keep us on course. At the beginning of my turn however, the sled leapt out of the groove and started careening downhill, cutting a fresh trail. In this moment of random chaos, all of my Sledder's Training left me, via my bladder. I didn't bail as I was taught. Consequently, I ran straight into the barbed wire, while my sled slipped under the fence, sliding to a stop on the road. The chaos, the confusion, it all suddenly gave way to silence. Bruised and battered, I lay at the bottom of the hill, a motionless lump of snow gear. The Pushers, having witnessed the disaster, took action. In the form of hysterical laughter.

I spent the rest of the day indoors with a mug of hot cocoa in front of Home Alone. Soon, the events of the early afternoon were all but forgotten, only to be remembered every following year of my life, even to the present.

Remember those joyous times spent 'round the fire, with your father reading a Christmas book as you children sat and listened eagerly? Because I don't. And I don't know why. I am forever cursed to remember such moments as the Gravy Incident, which my brain delights in recalling whenever I sit down to eat during the holidays. It takes all the self-control I can muster to not bang my head against a wall repeatedly, but I know that this act would solve nothing. Because we all know violence is not the answer. Unless the question is what's not the answer.

Well, my dear friend, (If you've read this far, than you must be my friend) I believe it's time to close down Memory Lane. I have to admit, no matter how terrible some of those moments seemed at the time, it's been fun remembering them with you.

Epiphany! What if the good memories are really just the bad ones that are recalled when the subject of said memories (Me, in this case) has matured? Wow. That's deep.

I'm trying to wrap up. Thanks so much for reading, and may God bless your holiday season. I hope you have a very, very Merry Gerbil. Hehe...

Just A Little Yuletide Cheer

2005-12-10T21:16:00.000-08:00

I've decided to take this time, while my cookies are in the oven, to add a bit of yuletide cheer to your day. I'm writing this post for you, my dear reader, because it's been brought to my attention that most people do not know the exact meaning of the word "yuletide", nor why it seems to surface every December. Am I right? Of course I am! Well, the word in question means, quite simply, Christmastime. Don't be too disappointed now; I was expecting a more complex answer myself. Perhaps a word with background, historical significance and meaning. But no, when I looked the word up this morning, this is all I got. And yes, it's kind of boring. Turns out that "Yuletide" comes from the root word "yule" (meaning Christmas), and the rootless word "tide" (meaning detergent). So there you go.

Note: We at The Spill (Motto: We're fun, and educational!) take pride in reporting only the facts. In keeping up with our sterling reputation, it is our duty to see to it that you leave this blog a much smarter person then you came, and if not much smarter, than slightly smarter. Or even just as smart as you were. In fact, anything above the "stupider-than-you-came" mark is okay with us. And now, back to the usual tripe.

Behold the Christmas season: It's that wonderful time of year when people of all ages, ethnicities, and backgrounds, can join together with the common goal of finding a parking space at the mall. This being the equivalent, difficulty-wise, of finding Mike Tyson at a Scrabble tournament. No really, it's a beautiful season. Strangers smile at you, cheerful holiday music plays almost everywhere, and you can almost smell the Christmas spirit wafting through the air. sniffff...

Wait. That's not Christmas spirit, it's my cookies. They're burning.

Holiday Playlist: Editor's Pick

2005-12-02T17:43:00.000-08:00

And now for some of my personal favorites. For this year anyway.

Track 1: Green Christmas - BNL

Track 2: Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer - Jack Johnson

Track 3: Merry Christmas Darling - The Carpenters

Track 4: What Christmas Means To Me - Jessica Simpson

Track 5: Santa Claus Is Coming To Town - Point Of Grace

Track 6: Wonderful Christmastime - Paul McCartney

Track 7: Donde Esta Santa Claus? - Guster

Track 8: Hey Santa - Ashanti

Track 9: White Christmas - Chicago

Track 10: Winter Wonderland - Liz Phair

Holiday Playlist: The Classics

2005-12-01T07:24:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas! Tis the season for family, friends, and friends of the family. Tis the season for snow, toboggans, thermal underwear, and tobogganing while the snow fills your thermal underwear. Indeed, tis the only season when you can use the word "tis". And, above all, tis the season for music. Without further adu/uhdoo/a-doo, [Editor's Note: Please choose correct spelling] I shall now list the classics; here are the holiday music staples. Without these Christmas classics, nobody's yuletide season would be complete.

Track 1: The Christmas Song - Nat King Cole

Track 2: Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! - Dean Martin

Track 3: Blue Christmas - Elvis Presley

Track 4: Little Saint Nick - The Beach Boys

Track 5: White Christmas - Bing Crosby

Track 6: Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree - Brenda Lee

Track 7: Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer - Gene Autry

Track 8: Jingle Bell Rock - Bobby Helms

Track 9: Winter Wonderland - Tony Bennett

Track 10: The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year - Andy Williams

Feature: What I Bought

2005-11-27T10:31:00.000-08:00

My brother Jarrod and I, both of us having November birthdays, thought it might be fun to exchange Von Dutch hats this year. Neither of us had ever had one, but we'd always thought they were pretty cool. So we both picked out the hats we wanted, and then we bought them for each other. Needless to say, we both loved the gift, because we usually appreciate our own thoughtfulness. Hehe...
I picked this particular style (shown), because it goes with pretty much anything I'm wearing. But let me tell you, there are so many awesome Von Dutch hats that I had a hard time narrowing it down to this one. You should go take a look at the selection sometime.

Von Dutch Chris Hat Original - Retail: $30

Indians, Pilgrims, And Mac 'n' Cheese

2005-11-24T22:08:00.000-08:00

Ahh... Thanksgiving. That special time of year when friends and family can come together, and rediscover just how loudly Uncle Karl chews his food.

But truly, it is a great season. Most of our national holidays have stories behind them, and Thanksgiving is no different. But don't worry, I won't bore you with a history lesson. I'm sure you've heard it all a million times before, unless you've been hiding in a drain pipe for an extended period of time. Those of you who know the story, feel free to skip this post.

THE STORY OF THANKSGIVING

It all started when an intrepid bunch of Englishmen, along with their wives, kids, and domestic pets, set out upon the Mayflower in search of The New World. When they met the inhabitants of the land, the American Indians, they were greatly intimidated by their hard-to-pronounce names, and they're naturally dark skin tone. And so, in an attempt to form a bond of peace between their two different cultures, the pilgrim's and the Indians sat around a large table, and held the first ever World Series Poker Tournament. Texas Hold 'Em being the game of choice, although - unbeknownst to the pilgrims - Texas had not yet been discovered.

No, seriously, they shared a large feast. A feast which was spent in awkward silence, because they didn't speak each other's language. Of course, this was only one of the setbacks, others being that the Indians kept trying to eat the domestic pets. This special meal (and I'm referring to the feast, not the pets) was the foundation for our Thanksgiving holiday.

Tis is a time of reflection; Thanksgiving is a time to remember those holidays of the past, and the often humorous memories associated with them. Like most of you I'm sure, there are many holiday-related memories I have, of which I think back on and laugh. Still more that I think back on, laugh nervously, and change the subject. Like the Gravy Incident.

What I'm getting to is this: We just don't know how many things there are to be thankful for. Sure, we could try to list some of them*, but there is so much, I don't know if we could possibly cover them all. I shall leave you now, on that note of thankfulness. God bless your holiday, and remember: Eat fast. You can fit more in that way.

*Family, friends, Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese...

Get Your Kicks. Customized.

2005-11-21T19:42:00.000-08:00

What could possibly be cooler than owning your own pair of the best selling sneaker of all time? Why, designing your own pair, of course!

The ever-popular Converse Brand shoe is now yours for the tweaking. Choose from one of the six trademark styles, and release your inner [insert name of shoe designer] by choosing your own colors, materials, and prints. Go to ConverseONE and give it a try.

Nike offers a similar service as well with NikeID, but in my opinion, it doesn't quite hold the same "retro appeal". However, it is still definitely note-worthy.

Mexico 101

2005-11-10T11:21:00.000-08:00

My family and I - through short-term mission trips - have spent mucho time in Mexico, evident by the fact that I often interject bits of Spanish into my sentences without even thinking about it. Because I hold a knowledge of this foreign land that many do not possess, I thought it might make for an interesting and revealing topic for this entry. To share with you in the most effective manner, I believe that a "Question & Answer" session would be the most educational. So please, begin.

Q: Have you ever styled your hair with a Coke product?

A: Yes, but I was thinking about questions that are more relative to our topic.

Q: Oops! Our bad. Okay, where is Mexico?

A: Beneath Texas.

Q: Are there really gun-toting "Banditos" down there?

A: Not like you see in the movies, but I'm pretty sure I did run into one once. He was disguised as a caramel-made-from-goats-milk salesman.

Q: Have you ever been to a bullfight?

A: Yes.

Q: Wow! Can you elaborate?

A: Sure. Those from Latin countries will argue that bullfighting is a sport, but we know better. Real sports involve goals, referees, and things of the like. They do NOT involve skin-tight suits and raging mammals. That is, with the exception of wrestling.

Q: Do they really call that man in the tight pants a "matador?"

A: Yes, and the direct translation of that word is "murderer". I'm serious.

Q: Interesting. If I wanted a pair of those pants, how might I get them?

A: Don't ask anyone. I once tried to acquire some for myself, but the man I asked just looked me up and down, then burst into hysterical laughter.

Q: That's too bad. Do you think that perhaps your Spanish was off?

A: No, I used a translator. He was laughing, too.

Q: Back to bullfighting: Does the Matador ever get hurt?

A: Sure he does, but that's all part of this so-called "sport".

Q: Wow! He must be so brave!

A: Brave? Ha! I'm convinced that their bravery is aided by large quantities of alcohol, because they are doing something that no sane person would ever do. Then again, bullfighting was not invented by sane people, it was invented by Spaniards. These are a people who eat a dish called "fabada", and think nothing of standing in front of charging, 2,000-pound bulls with horns.

Q: How's the food in Mexico?

A: Great! But bear in mind that many Americans have the wrong idea about Mexican food. Example: you will most likely never see a real, authentic, "7-layer Burrito" during your visit. You can rule out the "Mexican Pizza" as well.

Q: What about tacos?

A: Now tacos, you can have. There are taco stands on nearly every corner, and you may even find hot dog stands, too. But I warn you, the hot dogs are probably not what you're used to. Bacon, jalapenos, mayonnaise, and goat cheese are common toppings.

Q: What's with all of these goats milk products?

A: I really don't know.

Q: Have you ever had an awkward situation involving a restroom in a fast-food place?

A: Funny you should ask! It was at a Carl's Jr. in Monterrey, one of the largest cities in Mexico. After I used the restroom I started to wash my hands, and was surprised to find myself next to a twenty-something lady. We stood side-by-side in front of the sinks, looking at each other in the mirror. I noticed she was sort of chuckling. This made me uneasy. Then, she said something in Spanish that I didn't really catch, but I could tell by the urgency in her voice that she had an upside-down exclamation point in front of her sentence. I imagine what she said was along the lines of "You're a boy, I'm a girl, and yet we're in the same bathroom. This should not be!" Well, I couldn't agree with her more, so I answered her using the limited amount of Spanish in my vocabulary. In an attempt to echo her concern, I said "hola." Take note that in some contexts, that word means "hello", but in this particular instance, it meant "You're laughing, and that makes me uneasy. I think one of us is in the wrong restroom." She walked over to the door and swung it open, pointing up at the sign. We looked at each other for a moment, and soon shared a hearty laugh at the folly that had been displayed. The sign on the door said "Mujeres" - Spanish for "Men's" - and although I thought it was pretty funny, I couldn't help but feel kind of bad for her. I mean, how embarrassing! And so we parted ways, never to see each other again.

Q: Wow. Quite a story.

A: Yes, indeed.

Well, that's all the time we have for today! Maybe we can do this again sometime. Thank you for reading, and have a great day.

Feature: What I Bought

2005-11-09T18:41:00.000-08:00

Having recently come to own my first Apple computer, it was only a matter of time before I bought some member of the iPod family. Consequently, I purchased the brand new iPod Nano, and I'm happy to say that I got much more than I expected. Not only does this pencil-thin Nano hold up to three days of music, but it also has the capacity to store up to 25,000 photos as well. And wait, it gets better. Other features include an Alarm Clock (can be set to any song on your iPod), a Calendar, Address Book, World Clock, Stopwatch, and Games (such as Parachute, Brick, Music Quiz, and Solitaire). All this, and the Nano weighs a mere 1.5 ounces.

Apple iPod Nano - Retail: Starting at $199

A Foreign Exchange

2005-10-09T22:05:00.000-07:00

On my list of things that I could never live without, my eyeglasses are definitely numero uno. (That's Spanish, by the way.) There are many other items on this list such as hand sanitizer, root beer, Roy Orbison's Greatest Hits, and of course, my kidneys. But my most prized possessions of all, second only to my extensive marble collection, are my glasses. They are my lifeline. They are what allow me to actually see the world. Without them, I have a hard time distinguishing toilets from sinks, and you can imagine the awkward situations this has put me through.

One of the worst possible scenarios ever is a haircut. The barber is always telling me to take off my glasses, which I hate to do because, to be honest, it turns me into a paranoid idiot. Haircuts are already scary enough, considering that you're letting a complete stranger come near your head with extremely sharp scissors. I am not usually this cynical or pessimistic; most of the time, I assume the best of my fellow man. But seriously, you never know if the person cutting your hair has just been through a very stressful time, or perhaps a personal tragedy, and at any moment he/she could just snap; lose their sanity, and lop off your ear. Hey, stranger things have happened. It's just like how the neighbor of a serial killer tells the media, "He seemed like such a nice man! We never would have thought he would just snap!" Note the usage of the word "snap." People do this, you know.

There was this one time when I needed my haircut, so like most people do when they need a haircut, I went and got one. My salonist's name was Ling Yuki. She was a short woman, rather advanced in years, whom I found had a hard time hearing. Or understanding, for that matter. As I sat down in the chair - Yes, the kind of chair with the raising and lowereing foot pedals that I've always wanted to play with - she spoke to me, with an accent thicker than the Great Wall.

"I think with you hair, I will cut and style to make look like a seventies soap opera star."

I gave neither a negative nor an affirmative reply, because I was still wondering if she had really just called me "hair." I gathered myself and replied, "Actually, I was thinking that you could just trim off about a half an inch all over, and block it in the back. Maybe trim up the sideburns, too."

There was a long awkward silence, as she stared at me as if I had an asparagus hanging from my nose. What she said next revealed that we were making very little progress. "I will cut and style to make look like a seventies soap opera star."

"Sounds great!" I said.

She had me remove my glasses - triggering the paranoia - and she started to snip away. About a minute later, Miss Yuki spoke, "Maybe relax a little," she advised, "You seem very tense."

Yeah? Well, maybe give me back my glasses. Or a strong sedative.

I noticed that she spent very little time holding scissors, and a lot more time with a hair dryer and a comb. I also noticed that my toes were numb. Funny what happens in a state of paranoia. When she finally turned off the hair dryer and whirled my chair around to face the mirror, I lunged for my glasses and nearly poked my eye out trying to get them on my face. I looked at my reflection. I can't describe exactly what sound came out of my mouth next. It was sort of a chihuahua-like yelp. You see, she had combed my hair straight backwards, and she had it poofed up higher than I ever thought possible. This was not the first time my reflection had scared me, but it was definitely the first time I ever yelped.

"You like, eh?", she asked.

"Well... uh," I began, "Words can't describe it..."

So I paid her and left the salon, eager to find a dark corner or drain pipe to hide in. I thought about marching back in and demanding that she give me a refund, or at least let me play with those foot pedals, but considering how entirely fruitless our conversations had been, I decided against it. I did feel gypped though. Not to mention taller.

Fall Playlist

2005-09-30T19:48:00.000-07:00

"Autumn is the bite of the harvest apple." - Christina Petrowski

I have absolutely no idea what that means, or even who Christina Petrowski is, but I was so excited to find a quote that had the word "autumn" in it, that I put it up anyway. Here's my idea of a great fall compilation:

Track 1: Those Sweet Words - Norah Jones

Track 2: Everything I Own - Bread

Track 3: Hey Julie - Fountains of Wayne*

Track 4: Fire and Rain - James Taylor

Track 5: New Slang - The Shins

Track 6: The Only Living Boy In New York - Simon & Garfunkel

Track 7: We've Only Just Begun - The Carpenters

Track 8: The Scientist - Coldplay

Track 9: Dying - Five for Fighting

Track 10: You Make Me Feel So Young - Frank Sinatra

*Okay, this song seems like it would fit better on a "summer" playlist, but I couldn't wait. It's such a catchy tune!

Feature: What I Bought

2005-09-29T12:41:00.000-07:00

That's right. I have officially joined the ranks of millions of Mac users around the world. The iMac G5 is the newest addition to the lineup of Apple desktop computers, and quite literally, it sits upon your desktop in it's glorious entirety. What you see, is what you get. It's awesome.

iMac G5 - Retail: $1499

Nasal spray: It's amazing!

2005-09-19T20:18:00.000-07:00

I need to get this out into the open: Nasal spray is the greatest medical achievement since latex gloves. Why do I say this? Well, because nasal spray actually works, and that's something that can't be said about a lot of things in the world of medicine. The text on the bottle promises to relieve nasal congestion, and by George, it relieves nasal congestion. That my friends, is a medical miracle. It's unfortunate that there can't be other "instant cures" like this, isn't it? If only all ailments could be solved with something as fast and efficient as nasal spray. I feel compelled to share a story with you:

Once upon a time, I discovered to my horror that my upper lip had swelled to the size of a small terrier. Alarmed, to say the least, I tried everything to make the swelling go down. Ice packs, pizza, nasal spray, but nothing worked. So like anyone would in this situation, I panicked. Dad said it would be best to have a professional check it out, so he grabbed the keys, I grabbed my lip, and together we jumped into the car. The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever, but I made the most of it, taking the opportunity to scribble a Last Will and Testament on a Starbucks napkin. We arrived, and my Dad and I went into the emergency room where an odd looking man in white explained that we had no reason to worry, because the swelling was the result of a common disease known as Neurological Tetrogrammatic Simoncowellitus, or something of that Latin-based nature. He went on to say that it was very minor, and it would soon pass. Needless to say, I was relieved. He said the lip thing wasn't terminal, and I could barely believe my ears. That's right, I had a second chance at life.

After hugging the doctor and every other white-clad person in sight, I parted the hospital with my Dad, ripping up the napkin as we drove homeward.

The End

You know, this article wasn't really supposed to go this way. I wasn't intending to ramble on about some boring, near-death experience. Hopefully, my next entry will be a little more educational and/or useful. Thanks for reading anyway.

Dogpile is the new Google

2005-09-15T21:30:00.000-07:00

The name of the site is Dogpile. Think Google, plus three more of the internet's largest search engines combined. It's brilliant. It's also much more fun to navigate than Google's site, thanks to the cheery blue template, the "Joke-of-the-day" tab, and the little puppy mascot. ("look at his little tale wag! How cute!)

Airline Improvements for the Common Good

2005-08-14T18:35:00.000-07:00

I travel more than most people I know, and yet even as much as I enjoy it, there are certain faults to be found. Air travel, for example, needs some major improvements. Ever noticed how completely random your seating arrangements seem when you travel with more people than just yourself? On the plane, your seat may be in Row 3, while the other members of your party are located somewhere near Row 48, in spite of the fact that you booked tickets at the same exact instant. My guess is that these airlines employ a staff of less-than-brilliant chimpanzees who sit in a secluded room, banging away on a computer keyboard that generates your seating arrangements, which in turn are illogical, inefficient, and may in some cases be located on the wing. Consequently, I have compiled a list of improvements that the Airlines need to make, and I shall now attempt to put them down in a nifty list form:

Improvement #1: Create more leg room between seats.

Improvement #2: Never show the "Welcome Aboard/Here's What To Do If Our Plane Crashes" video ever again. (We've heard it a million times, and we all know that if the plane starts plummeting to earth at speeds upward of 2,000 miles-per-hour, our seat cushions won't save us.)

Improvement #3: Find the room full of chimps, and destroy them.

Improvement #4: Hire more friendly flight attendants. (Ever noticed how irritated they always seem? They rush about the cabin as if they're late for they're real job - probably telemarketing - with a look on their face that says to not ask them for anything, or even to make eye contact. And we don't dare, because they have an arsenal of complimentary peanuts that we don't stand a chance against. They remind us of this by periodically whapping bags of these peanuts on our tray tables with enough force to cause turbulence.)

Improvement #5: A better magazine selection. (Because "Ebony" and "Latin Finance" aren't enough.)

Improvement #6: Two words: Root Beer.

As you can imagine, there are many other improvements that I would list, but I think this is enough for the time being. I'm considering writing to the heads of some major airlines to introduce this list, because I think we the people deserve better travel accommodations.

Do you agree with the improvements presented here? Do you believe as I do that travel should be less stressful? Do you simply hate chimpanzees? If your answer to any of these is yes, then please send money.

Ha ha! Just kidding. I wouldn't think of asking you, my readers, for money. It would not only be unethical, but it would be unprofessional, and that is something that we at "The Spill" cannot, and will not have. Your loyalty is enough for us.

Have a pleasant day.

And I prefer cash.

Cool Sites

2005-08-14T17:39:00.000-07:00

Here are a few websites that I frequent:

MovieMistakes.com
Over 50,000 mistakes and goof-ups from nearly 5,000 movies. Someone has way to much time on their hands. Also contains movie reviews, trivia, photos, and the like.
Related Sites: SlipUps.com; EasterEggs.com

Bored.com
Links to some of the funnest, strangest, and most interesting sites on the web. A great place to kill some time if you're feeling... Well, bored.
Related Sites: Web100.com; toptenlinks.com

Threadless.com
Think you're the next Hilfiger? Submit your t-shirt design and rate others. Monthly winners get their design printed on limited-edition Ts and $500 cash/store credit.
Related Sites: OMGClothing.com; Noncitizen.co.uk

Feature: Movie Review - Batman Begins

2005-07-10T19:45:00.000-07:00

Cast:

Christian Bale, Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, Katie Holmes, Gary Oldman, Liam Neeson

It's as if the phoenix that is the Batman franchise has risen from it's ashes. In the past, a few shaky screen interpretations of the popular DC comic left the fans ultimately disappointed. But with this film, all confidence in the Caped Crusader has been restored, and his future in cinema secured.

You can expect a much grittier telling of the story this time around. It seems that director Chris Nolan (Insomnia, Memento) has put the "Dark" back into the "Dark Knight", and actor Christian Bale makes this hero's inner demons very believable as well.

This film is entertaining on a number of levels. Story-wise, the characters are very involving and the plot gives insight into the previous films, offering answers raised by them. We the viewers go into this movie rooting not only for the hero, but also for the Batman franchise itself, hoping that it may be revived with the help of a new cast and a new director. After all, we all like a good come-back story. Without a doubt, this movie is one of those stories.

Just like the protagonist's tank-like vehicle - an early Batmobile, as we learn - Batman Begins is an exciting and powerful ride, and is definitely worth checking out.

Feature: What I Bought

2005-07-10T19:16:00.000-07:00

Okay, these are the best Skittles I have ever had. Every piece of candy in the bag is actually a hybrid of two different flavors such as Peach Pear, Orange Mango, Lemon Berry, and so-forth. Hence the "Smoothie Mix" title. Go out and get some. These are good.

"Smoothie Mix" Skittles - Retail: $1

Good, or bad, at least I have a routine.

2005-06-25T21:27:00.000-07:00

It's 6:44 in the morning, and the entire house is silent while my family and I enjoy peaceful slumber, completely ignorant of what is to occur at precisely 6:45. You see, that is the time when the alarm clock - set the previous night by Yours Truly - is scheduled to go off. The reason for my setting the alarm is that before breakfast, I might enjoy a brisk jog, wherein I jog briskly. A noble cause to be sure, but after being out of the exercising scene for a while, it's not an easy thing to try and get back into it.

You see, after a few weeks of flipping through popular magazines, or walking through the mall, or standing anywhere near my brothers, (if you've seen them, you know what I have to compete with,) I decide that I would be better off with a routine. "I shall workout," I say to myself, posing with my hands on my hips like a true hero. "I shall be the fittest man in the world! Someone pass me a snickerdoodle!"
You can see my dilemma.

6:45 strikes.

BEEP!... BEEP!... BEEP!...

Jerked out of a blissful dream, I glare over towards the clock whose screaming pierces my eardrums. A slight exaggeration. Perhaps the beeping isn't that loud, but at this most irritating time of the morning, it might as well be the Mormon Tabernacle Choir rehearsing in my bedroom. I whack the "snooze", and after a quick glance around the room, I recall why I set the alarm in the first place. "Exercise can wait," I reassure myself, as I roll over and fall back into my beautiful slumber.

Sad? Yes. But it's true. In all honesty, the scenario described above is more commonplace than my actual jogging routine, much to my chagrin.

Oh well. I'm sure that one of these days I will develop a real workout schedule. One that I'll stick to for more than, say, a week. Until then, the daily whacking-of-the-snooze-button will have to suffice.

Feature: What I Bought

2005-06-23T16:09:00.000-07:00

Here's something that I forked over my cold, hard cash for during the last few weeks. I've been wanting a hat for a while, and while shopping in Lids the other day, I saw it and thought it was pretty cool. Apparently, John Deere miscellany is "in", so I figure this is a pretty safe purchase. Who knows how long the little fad will stick around, but while it's here, you might as well get in on it.

John Deere "Trucker Hat" - Retail: $17

Support Our Troops, but do it right.

2005-06-05T17:22:00.000-07:00

At this point, I think we are all familiar with this ribbon. Almost every other car you pass has one. Sure, I think it's a great way to show support for our troops over yon, but there is one thing that bothers me: almost everytime you see one, it's not on straight. Have you noticed this? It's true. Most of the time, people try to apply them Jesus-fish style, with the two ribbon ends pointed to the side. I have even seen the occasional upside-down ribbon. A couple of minutes of internet research will show that the correct application of this magnet is as shown in the photo. That's right, ribbon ends pointing down. Anyway, spread the word. If we are going to support our troops, let's at least put the ribbon on correctly.

My First Post

2005-06-05T14:52:00.000-07:00

Wow... I can't believe I actually have my own little chunk of the internet. My personal slice of the web. Yes, a place where I can spill whatever's on my mind for others to read. I can't say that everything posted on my blog will be useful or even worthwhile to you, but it is my fervent hope that you will leave this page a better person. Or at least an amused person. Anyway, thanks for showing up. Enjoy.